#senatusstarters

Sprawled out like a cat in the sun, Isaac perched himself in a café seat just outside of The Last Bean with a rather smug grin— sunglasses on and a full espresso resting on the iron table. He had become quite the regular since arriving in Rome and found that it had the perfect view of most of the city. Quite the sight now. Land that used to house large buildings had been leveled completely, causing major and noticeable gaps. A snicker flooded from his lips as sapphire eyes bounced around the scene, reveling in the spectacle and just how rousing it had all been. Finally a grand showing and the abomination could still feel the warm sensation it brought him. “Oh good, you made it,” a melodic tone as he moved to make space for the fellow demon's approach, “Beautiful morning, wouldn’t you agree?” It was a bit rhetorical, though he supposed the opinion of his fellow species mattered at least a little to him. Swiftly Isaac removed his shades, tossing them haphazard on the table before grabbing his drink for a quick sip. The bitter taste was almost soothing and brought about more ease to the abominations' features, “What did you end up getting up to anyway? The world’s your oyster or some connerie.”

It had never been Casper’s favorite holiday or really favorite time of the year, but there was something about the blanket of snow and sound of wind chiming holiday bells that shook loose the holiday spirit. Halloween, since youth, was the one he and his family always went all out for. Mostly with the encouragement of his father, but the absence of himself in Rome and work taking over his mind— it seemed more than fitting to put more of his efforts into this one. A large tote hung on one side of his shoulder as he made his way down the market path, the smell of milled wine and cinnamon filling him as he sauntered. The start of the solstice hung in the air as his emerald hues bounced from sparkling jewelry to holiday gift baskets, excited for what the artisanal crafts might bring and who he might bump into during the bustle. “They’ve overdone themselves,” his lips muttered as he gazed on another storefront window display, triggering a snicker, “can’t even tell what they sell anymore.”

Loud bass pulsed life into the club, flashing lights of reds and violets made the dancing crowd look like they were moving in slow motion. Val could smell the alcohol that runs off everyone’s breath, and the electricity in their smiles. No one can see the dance floor, it’s wall to wall with people dancing against one another, grinding and bumping with strangers with no care in the world. There’s seemingly no room for any more bodies, but as the Lycan makes his way onto the floor, drink in hand - space magically opens up for him. The nightclub was a heartbeat on loudspeaker, grinding against whatever body was closest, and being pulled further into the mass like it was a living thing trying to eat him whole.

It was only a matter of time before space no longer opened up for him, colliding with some force with someone else. Whatever liquid that had been in his cup now rested on the front attire of the victim he’d just smashed into. Impossible to simply speak over the thrumming music; Val leaned close to yell over the music closer to their ear. “I’m sorry! I can wash it out!” Now this person smelled entirely like beer, he couldn’t tell what species they were over everything else overwhelming his senses. motioning over to the washroom doors, “If you want.”

“My mother’s spicy old-fashioned,” the words gently fluttered off the vampire’s lips as his emerald hues grazed upon the growing crowd around him. It was nice to be surrounded by so much magic and to feel as though he still had some of it within his grasp, looking back down at his glass to see it had refilled all on its own. While the whole idea of a funeral procession usually gave him some small excitement, he continued to play back the sound of Marcella as she said ‘but it’s only been three months’. There was a lot of truth in her statement and this brigade of games, bringing awareness to the missing— each still brought an air of mystery and suspicion to his gut as he found himself closest to the market. 

The den seemed intriguing and reminded him of the days he would get lost within the swamps, trying his hand at the illusion magic that led him to the creature he was now. Casper would more than likely find himself messing around with that kind of escape later on, maybe after the competitions, just to lay an eye on at least one hellscape. “Quite the crowd,” he stated to anyone close enough that would listen, wondering if perhaps the newly changed vampire might find his runaway sire, “would be pretty hilarious if the missing coven popped out like a game show prize. Could they be hiding behind curtain number four or maybe six?” A small chuckle broke from behind his teeth, though he knew there wasn’t much humor in it.