#tfkevent01

Gabriel wasn’t interested in friends, had a bare minimum interest in socializing in general, and felt that the entire party would be better admired from the comfort of his own room--miles away from the gossip of society’s elite and those too poor to be considered worthy of Upper East Side attention, but still trying (almost desperately) to cling to relevancy. Presently, he was seated at one of the lone tables that clung to the back of the ballroom, watching with vague disinterest the people gliding across the floor as the orchestra played a soft ballad in the background.

Crossing one leg over the other, Gabriel leaned back in his chair and reached for the glass of wine before him, taking a sip as his eyes scanned the people in the room. He had an itch to reach for the small, leather-bound novel he’d slipped on the inside of his breast pocket and read, but had made a promise to himself--to Damien--that he would at least attempt to show interest in tonight’s festivities.

Not like that would ever happen.

The sight of Kieran’s body and blood sent ripples of agony through the royal pack, and though Roan had never officially considered himself part of it, he felt it deep in his bones. His glamour was white hot against his neck, the pendant trembling as it struggled to contain his beast. Pandemonium reigned throughout the ballroom as his fellow wolves succumbed to the change in fits of pain and fury, and the vampires set upon them like feral cats. Roan trembled from head to foot, unable to think straight, barely holding his human form through years of rigorous self-denial. It wouldn’t last long, he knew, but while he still had the last of his right mind, he wanted to make sure the humans were safe. Even the pirates, enemies though they were, were not deserving of being caught in the middle of this. And the fae and merfolk in the crowd had not signed up for a bloodbath either.

A strained growl rumbled through him as he staggered towards the nearest entrance. Viktor, Christian, Ainslee, Saria, Arielle.... rattling off the list of people he needed to make sure were safe was the only thing holding him together, but for how long, he didn’t know. A vampire charged towards him, fangs bared and eyes wild. Still unwilling to submit to his change just yet, Roan swung and socked the fiend so hard in the mouth that he felt those fangs slice his knuckles as they were knocked out. The creature stumbled, and in the process fell into another of its kin who was bearing down on a bystander. Roan looked to the individual, eyes blurring a bit with the strain of holding his human skin. “Are... are you okay?” he choked out. He daren’t try for a longer sentence, nor did he think he’d be capable of one.

Aiden was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he heard the first scream come from the north. At first, he paid no mind to it, as it was pretty normal for a cry or yell here or there coming from the vampire territory, but then it hit him. He remembered that his father told him something about a wedding in The Vampire Court, one that he would attend with his siblings, but had Aiden stayed out past the sunset, he would have gone with. 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. That was all that was going through Lukas’s head as he limped through the gardens as fast as his leg would let him. It was already laced with sharp pains from hip to toes as he sped away from the carnage overtaking the ballroom. Whoever had sent him that invite was a real jackoff, as far as he was concerned. He knew he shouldn’t have come—why had his damn curiosity gotten the better of him? He stopped behind a tall hedge, giving his leg a chance to rest and breathing heavily. He’d worn a fucking suit for this. Eyes closed, he didn’t notice the presence of another until he opened them again. “SHIT! Could you not do that?!”

It was inevitable that she was going to be separated from Adrienne. They were all solo hunters, each after their own prey. The only awareness that Mercy had was to not intrude in one of her fellow court’s chase. This was the first time in a long time any of them had such a public feasting and she was living for every moment. Of course with the war now upon them, more of this was on the way, but it was finally a celebration. A celebration of the power of the vampires in all their bloody glory.

The ballroom looked like something out of a horror novel, fighting on all sides as wedding guests turned on one another. Viktor was in the heart of it all, cutting down the vampires that had sought out an opportunity against him. The fighting was drawing him further into the room, where he hadn’t yet made his rounds, when a familiar sight caught his eye.

Miss Young was there, seeming like she was desperately trying to shrink away from the obscene violence that burst forth. She was supposed to be in the castle, with his sister, keeping her safe and away from harm, but she was here instead. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no -

He caught her wrist just as she was about to slip into the crowd, pulling her towards him as the horrid, twisting feeling of panic welled up in here. “Saria, what are you doing here!?” He nearly shouted, looking over her desperately in search of any indication of injury. “You could get yourself killed! How could you be so reckless?”