#varcolacui

          “well?” miche challenges, “you’ve come over here, you’ve got a look in your eye that is almost... determined. what is it you want?” can’t a wolf moon-bathe in peace? these days, it didn’t seem to be the case. miche takes a drag off his cigarette and sighs through his nose.

The vampire, still lacking a limb from her own battle a month prior, looked at the man before her significantly. “I know. Witchers are vile things, humans are vile things -- I did not lose this,” she lifted up the slowly regenerating stump of her left arm, “by accident. A contract on my head and a witcher’s morals put me here.”

Her eyes flickered down at the overwhelming scent of blood, scanning his body to account for what wounds they had inflicted upon him. She could smell the oil that was burning the exposed flesh and winced -- blade oils were something no labelled ‘monster’ ever wished to experience. It was part of the reason why her own severed limb was refusing to regenerate the way it should have.

Losing everything had changed her. In her youth she would rarely associate with other vampires, never mind other species; later in life, she took her place in the upper class of her homeland and drank wine while humans would flit around her like adoring birds. Now? She had little desire to turn her back on someone who was in the same position as she.

Orianna took a step closer, frowning at the lacerations covering his body.  “I know little of werewolves and you are bleeding. Heavily. What can I do?”

YOU HAVENT SEEN GREMLINS TILL NOW I'M CRYING

SOMETIMES I FORGET SOME MOVIES EXIST...listen I HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN E.T...

Soon!! SOON I PROMISE.

At times their love felt so misplaced and displaced, a feeling that she could hardly find the words to express. Though she didn’t care much for lack of expression as she had no doubts that he felt it at times too. It led to questioning and arguments. He was something, a man who’s lived easily 19 lives over in his own and she was something else, a woman who’s supposed to be dead four times over. Yet they’re both alive and walking and talking and together. 

It wasn’t hard to understand that it was both the knife and the gauze of their relationship. And she typically was the former. Though that didn’t stop him from burying her in him. 

  it was within the castle bran that the solemnity of the order of the dragon had been charged , gathering within the foyer under the banner emperor sigismund himself had commissioned to fly . lords and their ladies -- those whom had accompanied them -- milled among themselves , awaiting for the emperor himself to appear . many avoided the infamous wallachian voivode , his eyes heavy upon all affronted by them , of emerald hellfire and mired in a deep cloud of darkness that seemed almost natural to the dragon . to be within transylvania was not a favored venue , as the white knight of christ -- john hunyadi himself -- was present with the murder of vlad’s father still hung over his head . the young prince made note not to interact with the fellow voivode if it could be helped .