#vxndiction

❛ you can come out —— i know you’re around somewhere  ,  creature. ❜

The presence one unfamiliar and powerful comes forward. “You have the scent of a noble. Tell me--are you the one responsible for the kidnapping and murder of fifteen humans from the town in Sedoc?” 

[ tuck ] to place a blanket on my muse.[ shift ] for your muse to move hair off my muses face.

{ ⚘ }

        Softly she stirred from her slumber to find Rathain looming over her, gently he moved a strand of her mahogany locks from her face cautiously as if he didn’t wish to harm her. Yawning she watched as he tidied up the blanket covering her to tuck her back in, a smile crawled upon tired features as softly she mutters to him.

Send “AH” to pin my muse against the wall but letting a RANDOMIZER choose. Got randomized to “ENOUGH!”

It was a rather pointless argument, one where Mathieu wasn’t even sure why it had started- other than him biting down on Rathain’s hand as hard as he could. Though in the assassin’s defense- the vampire shouldn’t have touched him after the bloodshed they wrought. Not so tenderly at least. That had been too startling- though apparently Rathain had believed that to be rude. Mathieu had of course retorted that Rathain was rude every damn day and that he didn’t complain. Things sort of...escalated from there. Until Mathieu felt a hand around his throat- tighter than usual, and felt his back slammed into a tree- harder than usual. A gloved hand tightly gripped the vampire’s wrist.

“I was hoping to excite you more than anything, or maybe surprise you,” Mathieu grinned, blowing the vampire a kiss, the blood on his fingers staining his lips. Behind him strung up in a tree was an unfortunate victim, skin peeled back on their chest showing off the rib cage, lungs that still filled with air, and a still beating heart. Blood stained the ground and him as he stepped aside to examine his handy work. Ironically the smell of blood did not perfume the air- instead it was covered by a strong scent of herbs and spices. The Breton’s skin glistened with sweat as though he had been exerting himself with something.

Mathieu’s head turned at the snap of a branch, the Breton tensing for a moment until he saw Rathain, ready to spring for the dagger resting atop bloodied clothes. Seeing the vampire he scoffed, adjusting the towel around his waist; going back to pulling a comb through tangled and damp blond hair.