#lunarrps

HER EYES SPOKE TOO MUCH MIND : ̗̀➛ SEASON 1, EPISODE 5: LOVE WILL HAVE IT'S SACRIFICES / @lunarrps / @bibrid (lizzie)

The episode begins at the Fairmont family estate, and it very much echoes the First Kill episode First Date. Much like that episode, Juliette Fairmont has her grand introduction into quote-unquote "vampiric society". Except this time it's a grand re-introduction! You know, considering the first one went wrong and all.

Everyone is dressed to the nines. And on the guest list are people we've seen before, ranging from Reika, to Rachel (and Rachel's sire) as well as Lizzie and Floribeth. And other guests like Ethan Machado and Maya Hearth-Woman (better known as Maya Harman, or Maya Dragonslayer).

Coincidentally, Floribeth is hiding out at the snacks table, sampling both the regular food and the blood infused items.

Then, the lights go out.

"Is it a blackout?" People ask. "Is someone about to put on a show?" There's a lot of muttering, murmuring, and unease.

"No, it's worse, it's happening again," Mrs Fairmont mutters, eyes frantically cutting from the (many) guests towards her family members, trying to locate them and, perhaps, the nearest possible exits.

The camera does a great, big, swoop around the room so the viewers see each vampire make a choice to go or stay. Most choose for the former.

A beat and then the doors are flung open! Hunters aligned with the Guardian Guild swarm the building and a huge fight breaks out that is filmed in a long take.

And, of course, where hunters go, death follows. And the Fairmont family isn't spared.

As Lizzie and Floribeth get out of dodge, Mrs Fairmont's haunted scream follows them as she cradles her husband - who has now met the True Death - in her arms; she was able to save him during the first raid. Not so much during the second one.

Mrs Fairmont begs her husband not to go, breathlessly reminding him that he promised her at least four lifetimes together. It's no use. She ends up cradling a handful of ashes, seated on the floor in a beautiful - if besmirched - dress.

And as this all goes down, Elinor Fairmont watches it happen and vows to get revenge. Even if it means she has to work together with her bastard of a twin brother to get it done.

Juliette Fairmont watches this all happen too, tears streaming down her face. Before the camera cuts away from her, we see the name of the person she's calling on the screen of her phone: Calliope 'Cal' Burns.

Afterwards, the credits roll.

Post credit scene #1:

"Was that necessary? This entire evening is ruined!" Ethan grouses at Maya Hearth-Woman, who merely grins: "No, but it was fun. Who do you think tipped off those little silver toothpicks wielding dumbasses in the first place? I've got friends in low, low places, baby."

"What now?" Ethan sighs, already done with all of this but unable to escape.

"Now," Maya is still grinning, "we go pay a little visit to Scarlett Forsythe - a witch with rapportokinesis is a very powerful thing to have in your pocket, indeed."

Post credit scene #2:

Floribeth gets a phone call from her friend and cousin, Thea Harman. At first, she's happy to be talking to her, but the smile falls from her face at the sounds of Thea's distress.

Through the heaving sobs, screams and moans, she can make out that Eric Ross - Thea's soulmate - broke up with her. Out of the blue.

Through her own tears, Floribeth promises to fix this.

Post credit scene #3:

It takes her longer than she would have liked, but Floribeth ends up tracking down CAITLIN EDWARDS, a witch with her own shop, whose family attempts to rival the Bennetts (and by extension, the Harmans). That's all fine and good; she's not here for that - she's here for a recipe.

A recipe that's largely unknown. To Floribeth, at least.

Four ounces of spring water, two ounces of dried petals of an unknown white flower, and one pinch of another unknown ingredient is mixed together. It forms a light green gel.

“He is far too curious and far too noisy for his own good,” Venera spoke smoothly, though there was a sharpened edge beneath her calm tone. “And while I normally encourage the desire to learn, one should know when to step back. Your brother is meddling in matters he does not understand, waltzing into centuries of devotion, ritual, and discipline as though they are some trivial curiosity.” She took a slow step closer, her gaze never leaving his. “Vampires and witches were never meant to walk hand in hand. One exists in tune with nature… the other… Well. I shall let you draw your own conclusions on that matter.” Her fingers folded neatly before her as she continued. “The issue is this: he has no respect for religion. That much has become painfully clear to me. I care little for most faiths myself, but I care deeply for the one I serve. And I have reason to believe he is attempting to dismantle my precious coven from the inside.”

“I simply cannot allow that to happen.” Her expression softened only slightly, though the danger beneath it remained. “I do not desire bloodshed. That is precisely why I came to you instead. I had hoped you, as his family, might be capable of controlling him before this spirals into something unfortunate.” Then, almost unexpectedly, a faint smile touched her lips. “But I must admit… you are rather pleasant. A good boy, even, if you are truly willing to help me resolve this little problem.”

Medina had not been impressed with the knife, as she frankly didn’t care. No blade was ever going to be her undoing. Sure, one could cut into her skin, stab her even, but it would never be something she wouldn’t heal from eventually.

Now, when it came to the one wielding it, Medina wasn’t exactly sure what kind of trickery he was playing at. This man stood before her dressed like a priest, of all things, how ironic. Was this some kind of theatrical display? Did he think it amusing? Ah, vampiric men… always so eager to show the world how wicked and cruel they could be. It was not for nothing that she preferred surrounding herself with vampiric ladies instead. But no man was ever going to be her undoing. Perhaps that was the very reason she had not backed down.

However, when he suddenly sliced her, only to bring the blade to his lips and taste her blood…

That did not sit right with her.

Sharing blood between immortals like themselves was, to her, an intimate act, not something to be taken.

“How dare you?” she snapped, her voice cutting through the air. “How dare you taste me without my permission? Do pray tell… who do you think you are?” She stepped closer. “And what is this mockery?” Her eyes flicked over him with open disdain. “You stand here, in the house of God, dressed like that… speaking of sins, when we both know we are among the greatest sinners to walk this earth.”

Another step, closer now.

“You couldn’t dream of killing me, even if both of my hands were bound behind my back.” Her voice dropped, far more threatening. “Do not test me. I have no desire for bloodshed in a place like this.”

Not that she had ever been devoted to God, no, not when beings like her were still branded heretics. Still… He was pushing her patience, and that was never a wise thing to do.

“Rest assured that your indulgent acts end here and now. I do not know what kind of tricks you are playing at, but believe me when I say, that was the last time you tasted my blood.” She spoke coldly, her expression now one of unrestrained rage, her eyes as icy as ever. The candles in the church flickered violently before bursting into bright flames, only to snuff out just as quickly.

A warning shot.

“Do you find this humorous?” she continued. “What kind of twisted being are you? A vampire indulging in the taste of another vampire… it is almost cannibalistic. Barbaric, even.” Her gaze hardened, sharp with disdain. “But I suppose you are not above such displays, seeing how you so carelessly sliced my neck with a mere knife… how scandalous.” She took another step closer, her presence smothering now. “Tell me, do you truly believe I will simply obey you and provide you with your desired… refreshments?”

Another night, another assignment dragged straight out of her Watcher’s endless list of “urgent concerns.” At this rate, Mercy was convinced her social life was on life support. Still, the case had just enough substance to pull her in, several victims, all drained, all tied to the same place: a church. Not exactly subtle, not exactly comforting either.

That alone was enough to bring her here.

Mercy wasn’t religious, not in the traditional sense. If she believed in anything, it was in goddesses who hunted under moonlight, not ones who waited for prayers. Artemis, Selene, Diana… those made sense to her. This? This felt like walking into someone else’s illusion of safety.

“Okay then…” she muttered under her breath as she stepped inside.

The church was empty, yet candles still burned as if someone had only just been here. The air felt… wrong. Heavy. Not holy, no, something darker, something that clung to the walls and whispered in the quiet. Mercy slowed her steps, senses sharpening as unease settled deep in her chest. It didn’t feel like a place of peace, it felt like a setup.

Her gaze flickered toward the corners, catching movement, shadows that shifted just enough to be noticed, but vanished the moment she focused. Tricks of the light, maybe, or maybe not. She continued forward anyway.

For a moment, there was nothing. no clues, no signs, just silence stretching too thin. Then suddenly, a sharp echo cut through the air. A door slamming. Mercy turned quickly, eyes scanning, body already bracing for a fight, but there was no one there.

And yet, when she turned back, he was suddenly standing in front of her.

Close, too close.

She didn’t flinch, even if the instinct was there. Instead, she took a measured step back, her gaze steady as she studied him. Priest’s attire. Calm posture, human… at first glance, but the feeling in her gut said otherwise, something beneath the surface didn’t belong.

“Do you always sneak up on people?” she asked, her tone edged, taking another step back as she kept her distance.

baseed on my writing, what muses could you see me write as, would like to see me write as / always accepting!

I was informed yesterday that I have been doing this for fourteen years, though I don't know if I count all of them given there was some downtime where I was not writing and just would pop in and maintain my blogs.

I did start on tumblr. My original blog has been archived/recreated a few times for cleanup but I still operate under that url (though not so much the ooc alias anymore.)

Leave it to Stiles to get his rental car stuck in the mud in the middle of a bad rainstorm. This is what he gets for driving in an unknown place, and it didn't help that his GPS had done him dirty. He pulled his phone to request a tow, but there was no signal now. ❝ You've got to be kidding me? This night can't get any worse..❞ Or maybe it could; the words are something he wishes he could take back the moment they left his lips. ❝ This is ridiculous, I can't just sit here and wait.❞ No, he was stubborn. He climbed out of the car and attempted to push it out of the mud, only to slip and fall right into a puddle. As he sat up on the ground, he was wet, muddy, and pissed off; the storm beating down harder felt like an insult to injury. As he gets up from the ground, he nearly slips again, but is able to stop himself by bracing his hands on the trunk of the car. His face sunrching as he looked around, seeing a church in the distance with a light on, maybe there was someone there who could lend him a phone or at least a freaking towel.

For every 📎 I get in my ask box, I'll post a thread that I want to do.

Ay yo why is yours so smol