#pestaside

@rennisaturate

@nicethought

@pestaside

@hcppiier

@tevinterbound

He knocks back his drink rather quickly, enough to make him gasp afterward due to the sting of the alcohol. There’s a heavy cough, phlegm being heard from deep within his chest. “Shit-- I don’t drink often, you know?” It’s his first lie of the night and it comes out far smoother than the drink went in. “My dad was an alcoholic so I try not to get too...get too into it, you know?” And within every lie is a kernel of truth; he graces over his deadbeat dad quickly.

One could ask her the same question. Why would a young lady wander through the woods  by her own? And given the fact that it was dark outside... Mercy, however, knew very well why she was here, and weren’t it for the unusual stranger, she would be moving on towards the manor. 

“ Sir-- is everything alright? Are you lost perhaps?” 

Nine hundred years and he still sometimes felt a prickling of nerves in a crowd. He wondered if something in his appearance revealed one of his many secrets. Some more imaginable and lurid than others. 

It didn’t help that here in England he was a foreigner and felt it. The weather, the food and the people didn’t agree with him much. And he found himself fiddling anxiously with an old rosary he kept in his pant’s pocket. 

                         ‘ look at me. ‘ 

                         ( a rage burns in her veins; a violent, UNHOLY rage sweeping through her upon looking at this pitiful VERMIN of a man. what qualities their master sees in him the bride is unaware, but that is her goal this evening. he would tell her everything he knew, everything of his goals and his enemies, what made him linger so long in this stinking HELL of a city - but first, he would have to look. her fury is fueled by his outright refusal to look upon her as if she were a god in all of her GLORY. if he looked now he would see the pure HELLFIRE in onyx gaze, aquiline features baring magnificent teeth with a snarl. her thirst burns alongside her anger, feeding an already raging fire. claws dig further into his throat, crimson ICHOR brought so close to the surface. the only reason fangs are not ripping open his throat for his INSOLENCE is the master’s favor, felt even now. still, the eldest bride is now in control &. she has no time for his cowering. tones are hissed nearly into his jaw, accent heavier than the count’s. ) 

//or we can just chat about it ooc though messages if you want. im just curious in general :)

im on the wrong blog BUT i’d love details if you ever want to write them/get the chance. it’s always interesting to know the ways behind fcs