#seth 02

When: Feb 12th, 2021, 6:47 pm

Status: Closed | @seth-marrok​

Liv had arrived early at the place they arranged to meet, which wasn’t uncharacteristic, but the main reason for it was that after the events of the past days, she had simply been… on edge, too nervous to stay still, perpetually seeking distraction. Everything was easier if she simply kept busy, even if all she did was walk aimlessly. At the very least, she would be surrounded by people, noise, life – it was silence she couldn’t take. By immersing herself in the ever-busy but perfectly familiar city, she also felt a tad more secure, knowing well by now she couldn’t control the whims of nature, but she still liked to pretend. It was easier than accepting the truth that what had occurred could easily happen again.

She fidgeted on her spot as she waited for Seth, part of her unsure what their meeting really was, and part of her finding she didn’t care to put a label on it. He had vanished, too, which had of course delayed their dinner plans, but more importantly, he had been one of the people on her mind as she’d lost herself in many unsuccessful attempts to read up on history and try to figure out what could have caused half of Astoria to vanish into nothingness. She hadn’t been able to contribute to solving the mystery, but that didn’t matter tonight. What mattered was that people, families, friends, loved ones, were reunited.

Once she saw Seth, a smile lit up Liv’s features, walking up to him in a hurried pace that revealed her relief to see him. “Hi.” She breathed, unsure how to broach the subject she imagined occupied both their minds. For a moment, Liv simply stood and stared, and then she did what she truly wanted to do – she hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re ok.”

The Bloodhound seemed vacant for a change. Only a few people occupied the seats at the bar. He noticed a group of vampires who concealed their faces in hoods; so ominous. One had bandages across his face, giving him the look of a decaying mummy. He sat in the farthest creaky, overstuffed bar stool, where the dust was piled high; all you could see was the palest grayish brown dust, the mahogany wood hardly perceptible. The bartender hobbled over to where he sat, and carelessly wiped down the wood in front of him. “What would you like?” he asked rather vaguely. Malachi would like a fresh throat attached to a young human, preferably one that was scared out of its mind, he thought acerbically in his mind. Instead, he said a glass of whiskey would do.

The door opened, but no footsteps reached his ears. The bartender came back with his drink and slammed it on the surface; , letting drops of orange, smoking liquid dissolve into the counter.  He smelled him first before he heard him talk. Malachi looked over his shoulder and there he was in all his glory. Seth Talbot, chatting up one of the bartenders. He probably was going to regret it, but he stood from his stool and made his way towards him. And he knew that Seth could sense him standing there. He knew it because he noticed his entire body tense up and he was no longer so chatty. 

❝Seth Talbot,❞ he acknowledged him, taking a sip of his drink. As it went down, it burnt his throat.  ❝Funny seeing you here. Don’t you have a kitten to rescue from a tree or some old woman to help cross the street somewhere?❞ He chuckled in a raspy bark of a laugh.

@itssethtalbot