#senecalia

" you're in self sabotage mode. " // @senecalia //

"oh? is that what this is?" brow raises and... armand instantly doesn't like the sound of his own voice. the heavy sarcasm to it, the bitterness. he didn't... ever want to be that way with rashid. but it had all boiled out of him, uncontrolled. a way that armand had never truly been with the other. it came in different forms, different ways. but now... he couldn't help it as it all came pouring out of him.

momentary wince, forgive me, before he laughs. head shakes and the vampire comes to move, cloth plucked up and bloody hand is wiped clean with amusement about it all as he hums as if in considerable thought.

play the part... have it all blow up... run away... circle back... make amends... play the part. it was all so fucking boring and he couldn't take it anymore.

♡ 𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑪𝒀 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 ; — Bite + Neck (It's Rashid's turn!)

Know them different by their mouths;

The human-bite is so much softer ⸺ the cuspids curve into a Comice delicate and round — a compact pressure — Lucky-U-shaped marks. Nothing like the incisor-sharp, quick slip-in, twin-marks of vampires.

She has an appetite-room for both.

She swallows them both.

She liquifies the air between on a light-heart chortle. And there in the magic collection of two bodies melting into one on a sofa, she goes off the hold of her elbows and sinks deeper into the cushion — a handful of his collar and the teeth-shut to throat guides him down with her. She palms-up to feel through the romanticism of curls.

❛ Harder, mon lièvre. ❜

An offering, greenlight. He's a sweet, sweet boy — who knows what he knows he's allowed to. Quarter access becomes half-full as she tips her neck. The waterfall of blonde follows the tilt. Eyes-lids bank near to a close as she lets out a soft-moan.

Lestat taps the thought microphone, fingering Says the guest to the guest between the pink folds of Rashid’s brain.

Rubbing the remaining cells, as it were, for a spark. Surely it’ll come. Just one.

❝The view is exquisite.❞

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓, 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍. sybelle managed just fine in that regard, but she got lonely during this time of the year. she stayed with armand, with louis, once it started getting cold ... once the snow of new york set in & her mind was not kind to her. ( it's the time of year when her life changed for the worse before armand found her. it's the time of the year when her parents died, when she was thrown through the windshield & put in the hospital. she misses her human family when it gets cold. a saddening thought which lingers. ) walking out of her bedroom into the front room, dining table being cleared off from the morning, sybelle messes with the rings adorning fingers. ❛ rashid- ... ❜ called out softly, ❛ if it's not bothering you, uh, do you mind helping me with something ? ❜ head tilts slightly to the side, braid shifting over her shoulder. ❛ it's jus' some assembly on some stuff for armand & louis, gifts, but i'm no good at that sorta stuff. ❜ sybelle grins.

The look on Theo's face is one of disbelief, confusion, something just shy of utter bewilderment. Every time he thinks he knows the world he lives in, every time he learns something new, he thinks, well, this must be it, then. What a naïve viewpoint. No wonder his staff at veine look at him like he's got the brain of a child sometimes. He's someone to be pitied, or coddled, maybe. Someone who couldn't handle all of the truth.

Maybe they aren't purposely hiding things from him, but that's certainly what it feels like right now, as he looks at a man who looks near-identical to a man he knows, but who isn't that man he knows, and who is... human, likely – Theo's gaze flickers between his eyes, his hands, trying to find evidence of something stable, something he can grasp onto and hold like a life raft in the ocean.

It was during his time at Oxford that he first learned of the existence of vampires – he was drunk when his dear friend and classmate dropped that life-altering bombshell on him. The combination of youthful folly and intoxication led to him laughing Antony's words off, thinking the fangs were a trick of the low light in the park they were sat in, looking out at the river. It took sleeping on things, sobering up, getting past a hangover to realise that Antony was being serious, it wasn't some poor attempt at a pisstaking.

Now he's older, wiser, certainly more experienced than he was when he was twenty. He's started a business with that same man, and he runs it extraordinarily well; the rush of going to work is a delight, the rush of knowing a secret that belongs to few like being high on some excellent strain of drug. But he's found himself once again caught in the trap of believing he's learned all there is to learn. Clearly he hasn't.

"No," he says with a shake of his head, a little laugh of disbelief, his tone incredulous as he raises a hand to rub over his jaw, "no, I think there is very much to tell." Theo doesn't enjoy being blindsided like this. "Considering I thought I was coming to a dinner with a business partner, Armand, and I thought I was having a very lovely conversation with said business partner, Armand, but you- you aren't Armand, so who are you, and why do you look near-identical to him?" At least this time, he'll be sober for any world-shattering revelation that'll be placed upon him in this penthouse.

purrs⸺ in so much demurity — see how soft she is? — so demure, so bunny — see how she looks up doey-eyed and not siren-like? — so demure, so bunny — see how polite her paw rests on a wrist, silently? she's not like these other lagomorphs, thumping their foot asking for more brazenly. — she's so demure, so bunny.

and⸺ Rashid, pets with so much demurity — see how he knows she needs pets without her asking? — so mindful, so bunny — see how he touches so gently? — so mindful, so bunny — he's not like these other lagomorphs, he's attentive, he acts — so mindful, so bunny, so demure.

panned-bunnies found by me, panned-lapins made by @senecalia ༊ ‧₊˚

" i love your hostile takeovers. " // @senecalia //

there was a wave of strange nostalgia that came from rashid's words. a kind of... unique memory that came bubbling up. echoes of an old life, an old haunt in his heart. he bites it back and instead, the smile that comes to his lips it entirely about the man before him.

hands shift, raising to continue work of unbuttoning shirt by a few buttons-- cuffs next, rolled up before he takes a step closer. eyes blaze as he looks at rashid and the hand that is lifted to his neck is much softer in its touch than his look would suggest. nail may press to skin, but it's a whisper of a touch.