#lostsovl

// closed starter for @lostsovl re: eden

"Unchaperoned upon a Friday's eve--?"

"Gods, me too," the dramatically bemoaned sigh comes closely over Valeries' well-dressed shoulder, its perpretator shortly leaning into her peripheral vision; in the midst of the patron herd and a chorus of ambient conversation loosened with each lapping of the clock, the avian appears as though from nowhere - an unvited guest, in more than one sense of the term - to take his place beside his mistress. Not quite a perching on her shoulder but just as comfortably snug in the figurative, if Havar is cognizant of the fact he that he looks quite the ways stripped down compared to her (in patterned breeches and a single, liberally unbottoned shirt) he plays it off, tipping his head down with a quirk and brushing an elboy toyingly against her own.

❥ ❝love letters from my bleeding heart?❞

The letter is not meant to be delivered, or so he tells himself as he sees to it that she receives it, anyway. He acknowledges he can be a sentimental, he can get carried away easily... This letter is no different, it is part of who he is. In his core, a fervent romantic.

Valerie,

It is far too easy for me to pour myself to you, I figured I should challenge myself, pouring my soul into letters you may overlook. The thought of them being ignored, of me being so inconsequential to your daily thoughts is a sweet venom I have denied myself of for too long.

A test of sorts, this might be. Do you perhaps feel a fraction of what I feel? Because these feelings are impossibly vast for everyone other than myself. Regardless, I must know. And this letter will be my proof.

I mean to say... The fidelity I feel for you is surely more than you would have bargained for. And still, I desire for you to have it, I will not keep you from it.

I have but a humble invitation, should you truly read this: Taste the flavor of my person – bloody or metaphoric, whichever appeals to you best... Tonight, or maybe any other day.

Fluttering to your flame,

( he had come in typical INELEGANCE for - of all things - her aid. perhaps boy knew in his strange way vampyr found him too AMUSING to kill outright, even though very scent of him was enough to DISTRACT. or somehow he knew a truth julia had yet to name - EMBERS kindled within centuries-hardened heart. even if born of sheer FASCINATION of his mortal mysteries or simmering BLOODLUST for taste strigoi could not forget finding in him capacity for FEELING, though knife's edge between empathy &. HUNGER continued to blur. it is why when he stumbled - frightened &. bloodied - door opened to him in SILENT welcome. )

( warbride has seen more of battlefield wounds than any MORTAL physician &. could still stitch even after half a millennia, even after own injuries never necessitated such CRUDE medicine again. experience can be seen in tension between drawn brows, firm line of CRIMSON lips; with enough strength slender digits could crush his bones but they instead SUTURED with feather-light touch. occasionally aquiline visage grimaces - sweet scent so PALPABLE it surrounds in thick, inescapable fog. )

( it happens when onyx hues shift to meet gaze, pupils flashing RUBY with every iota caging beast against unavoidable AROMA of doe. full lips part to speak, INTERRUPTED by prey closing short distance between; warm lips ENVELOP those of cool marble with sudden passion &. predator is swiftly UNCAGED. )

( taste of his lips is where bride finds tantalizing preview of what she had been CHASING - life. DULCET warmth, greenery of youth, very pulse of him so keenly felt against her lips; sunlight, cigarette smoke, honey-sweet VITALITY flavors nosferatu had almost forgotten entirely. nevermind instant CRAVING for touch julia had not felt in so many decades, quiet moan in back of throat revealing HUNGER far better than any carefully-worded machinations. )

( for once it is vampyr's turn to be graceless. pale hands which had removed themselves moment lips CRASHED to hers suddenly reach with PRETERNATURAL speed, winding possessively into boyish curls &. pushing them against surface behind him table, she thinks. returned FERVOR carries with it intensity for his blood, his sunlight, fangs SLICING into thin skin of his lips before bride can remember to RESTRAIN animal. pulling away with unearthly HISS, great teeth stained vermillion gnashing, before human veneer returns with PURRING murmur &. crooked grin. )

@lostsovl // valerie & jormun - permittance

.///. Fighting the initial first urge slash red herring thought to make Jason into some sort of ballistic weaponry given how his usage of guns is very notable for him (and because in a Boyfriend Dungeon-esque game it would be fun as a ranged option)HOWEVER, I personally feel some sort of knife or dagger would suit his character overall a little better :0 💭

In the our supernatural verse, I'd probably make him a Hunter's Knife to go with the fact that he's a monster hunter (and because he's a lot more rough and grounded in this timeline), while in the Main Verse I'd say he'd be a Kris - a waved, engraved and asymmetrical dagger culturally used in Indonesia and parts of Southeast Asia - similarly to the one he iconically carries in the comics, which was gifted to him post-resurrection by Talia (daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, Head of the Demon).

While it can be used as a weapon, the Kris also associated with ceremonial purposes and are sometimes even considered pieces of art, which suits not only the mystical aspects surrounding his resurrection but also the more delicate aspects of his personality, including his deep interest in culture, literature and art. Historically, the Kris as a weapon are also known to be frequently broken and reforged which -- make of that what you will >>''

In a combat context within either verse, despite his brute force and brazen exterior, I think a more rogue-like implement fits him because it embodies not only his overt physicality, but his stealth, speed and penchant for striking unexpectedly - and, because it requires affinity in close combat, it, much like Jason, makes everything a lot more personal. To wield him would be to wield something raw and beating, hot and thrumming with your own pulse in your hands as you course with the adrenaline of survival, driven by the fires of just retribution; He's an extension of yourself, your partner and lifeline, and he won't break while there's a fight left to fight out there.

In conclusion; Jason is a tank rogue thank you for coming to my TED talk.

" CANIS  LUPUS  OCCIDENTALIS. Also  known  as  the  northwestern  wolf.  Discovered  just  a  few  decades  ago,  in  the  Coppermine  expedition,  in  fact. "  Death  is  captured  in  the  glazed  eyes  of  a  predator,  body  expertly  contorted,  molten  to  tell  a  tale  of  danger.  Of  a  creature  frozen  in  the  middle  of  a  hunt.  This,  here  before  them  —  the wolf's  perpetual  tomb,  his  brief  escape  from  Time.

(  Blood  of  my  blood...  )

What  an  imperious  sight! The  doctor  continues.

"Alright, mum, love you. Be home before you and Mel even begin to miss us.”

Theo waited on the line until he heard the other end click off. It had been a few years since he’d gone anywhere for the holiday, and even longer than that since he’d been away from his daughter. But it was only for a brief trip, and they’d be back for their family celebration soon. Knowing what he knew of Faith, this gathering was important for her, and she did promise him a trip to the MOMA before they headed home (although she seemed to pronounce it more like Momma, which he found charming if a bit odd).

With the check-in call completed (and it was more for his comfort than theirs), Theo slowly eased his way back into the party. The scene had shaken like a festive snowglobe, with none of the players where he had left them. He gave a small “hmm” in his throat before searching for something of an opening -- everyone seemed to be engaged, with Faith nowhere to be found. The only other person currently with an air of unoccupied freedom about them was... Valerie, was it?