#oc time!

After that I got curious: what kind of people you like? What was the last mortal you found interesting like?

Well-

I, or should I say we, tend to gravitate toward others who lead interesting lives. Folks who desire above all to be worldly and open minded and share no fear when speaking to the unknown. These tend to be the people who are as curious about us as we are of them. You know, others with a story, who have been altered by Hell and are willing to share their perspective about it.

The last mortal I spoke to was my housekeeper. I’ve written about her here and there because she is in our lives though it’s hard to be platonic with her because of our wake/sleep schedules. Such is the tragedy of keeping mortal relationships alive. She’s incredibly busy.

She is a young woman, younger than Daniel was at his turning. We met her through Jesse who invited her to keep our house tidy when I made mention of it… This was during that quarantine about six years ago. She needed a job while her college courses were postponed but now that I stipend her so well she continues to come by.

She was originally an art history major which drew us together and lead us to bond over my large Keith Haring commission but has since switched to law which is equally interesting. She plans to someday use her skills to protect the land of Puerto Rico where her family originates.

I enjoy talking to her about all of her interesting tattoos and jewelry, notably the colorful motif of a chicken that spans across her chest, and her mind is usually swimming with questions and curiosities about us, notably of how attractive she finds Daniel which I find to be very entertaining.

She texts us often and writes responses to my letters that I leave on our kitchen counter and occasionally we will treat her and her boyfriend to dinner but I do truly wish we could see her more. She is extremely intelligent and quick witted and beautiful. I love her so much.

There is also a… shadowed part of her mind that somewhat makes her irresistible to me. Some nut I can’t crack. A portion that’s in a little jewelry box locked tight inside. She may be clairvoyant which sometimes happens when mortals have this gift and I may never know. The Mind Gift is strong but not Godly nor perfect.

Serendipity takes very good care of his hair. Comparable to Marcille from Delicious in Dungeon, to the point where I’m sure he was taught that his magic is tied to the state of his hair. Found out a long time ago that he likes keeping it long, and likes to style it a handful of ways. Defaults to one braid, or sometimes two.

Some space oc content 🌞

Blood of Caine Files: 1-A. File Name: "Lapdog"

I don’t often find myself in cities like Miami. The stench and sound of kine is unbearable. Being in places like this makes me miss the dead quiet of the woods. The cars go by and the lights are blinding. I need a fucking smoke. 

We’re starting the night off together at a clinic. Not what I would’ve expected from a man with his look. He’s the type where you think he’d be up in some penthouse drinking from only the loveliest of dolls. Disgusting. His car is sleek and almost blends into the black night broken by sparks of blues and reds from the street. Typically with cars like this, I’d just crack the window and check out what he has hidden between the seats but.. I’m getting the feeling the Hound wouldn’t take that very well. Isn’t that right, pretty boy?

Everything in this city feels like a fax machine drenched in sweat. I’m not sure what the hell that means, but it’s in my notes. 

He moves over to a meeting. Another meeting. Another meeting. I’m watching where I think the sweat would drip down to his collar if he were still breathing. We go to another meeting. Do you get tired of this, Cade? Do you wonder if this was what your undying existence was supposed to be? Do you wonder if you could be cutting into some goddamn flesh instead of talking to these last gasps of air from a city long past? I used to be an insomniac, Cade. I wonder if that’s what you were. 

We’re driving again. Well, he’s driving and I’m going off rooftops like goddamn Batman. That would’ve been nice, if instead of being this.. I could get at least some wings or something. I haven’t watched any of those movies. I probably should. We stopped by a couple of shitty coffee joints. I wonder if our Hound would freak out if they got in his car. That’d be something fun in your boring unlife. Joke, joke.. don’t take it out on me. I’m quaking and shivering at the thought! 

Everything is so.. rehearsed. Conducted? Constructed? I can’t get my fangs around the artery of your truth. 

Once the pretty little car is parked, I’m leaving my email carved under the hood. Hit me up for a good time, lapdog.

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