it wasn't often that blamore found itself naturally drawn to someone, it thought, even though it was rather extroverted — and thus... in a way, the creature 'fed off' having interactions with other's so-to-speak. it was just that blamore saw himself as being more disconnected from humanity now than ever... but as he quietly observed this man across from him eyeing a book he himself had liked, he soon spoke up to him. ❝ hey — sorry, i couldn't help but notice that you've been eyeing that book for a while; and that's actually one i've read before. steinbeck is a really excellent author, in my opinion, and east of eden is probably one of my favorite books by him. ❞

the creature was currently skimming the area where all the edgar allan poe books were in the library, hoping he might find 'the fall of the house of usher.' that was one of the short stories by poe that it hadn't read yet after all. and luckily, it seemed to spot it right as he thought of something to add to what he said about east of eden. blamore pulled the book out from the shelf as he walked over to morgan, offering him a small smile, ❝ have you read any books by him before? because if not, then i also recommend the grapes of wrath. though in terms of mood, if you're looking for something happier, i'd definitely say east of eden is the better pick for you this time. ❞

the creature held the book he grabbed to his chest then, which was covered in a long trench-coat. because although going out and flaunting that he was a half-human, half-plant hybrid was something it did sometimes... other times, blamore just wanted to blend into the background as much as he could. this was a quiet place that he just-so-happened to still have sentimental value for after all. therefore, it didn't want to potentially ruin its worldview of the library by exposing its true nature to everyone freely. though if morgan were to ask about its trench-coat, blamore thought, it might be so inclined to show him the mix of beauty and quote unquote 'horror' underneath.

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☎️ 𝙶𝙷𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙱𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂, 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙳𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃? || 👂👂 yess || @witchaotics

Zatara dusts off his clothes, with a wave of his hand the last bits of errand magic disappear into nothing. " You should count yourself lucky I was nearby, young man. " He pauses then and seems to reconsider as he properly takes the other man in. " Or perhaps not so young? No matter. Any magician should understand the magic you wield is particularly dangerous. For the sake of our profession, do be more careful with it. "

HE’S NOT IN Romania anymore, so it’s not very often he gets stared at, much less hunted. Not to say that it doesn’t happen - he’s scrubbing the blood of a hunter off his trench coat when Morgan tries to touch him, prompting the vampire to recoil.

HE’D SOUGHT THE other out for what - for comfort? Something like shame burns in his chest, and he doesn’t meet Morgan’s eyes when he speaks, focused on scrubbing the worn leather.

“I SAY IT because it is true,” is his response, “do you not see the blood? Staining your hands on me would be a waste.”

Continued from x || @witchaotics

" I'm not that shallow, " he says, with perhaps more bark in his tone than was needed.

Yes, this place had its charms. He appreciated the obvious dedication and thought that had gone into the way the garden club had maintained the landscape; even in the dead of winter the trees were beautiful, the hedges lining the streets were perfect, the flowerbeds, though empty for now, were clean and free of litter. There was nary a cigarette butt, Styrofoam cup, or candy wrapper to be seen caught in the expertly laid cobblestones. The fountain was darling and picturesque, he was sure as summer if he looked into it he'd find an array of coins tossed in by wishers from near and far.

It was a town square to rival all town squares, and wasteland had been too harsh a descriptor. As the random man had so casually pointed out.

" Pardon my words, I was thinking out loud and sometimes I am not the most gracious. "

Marigold leans his hip against the bench, crossing his arms over his chest, cupping his elbows loosely.

" I was hoping to find something more... " don't say fuckable, Marigold. "... lively to set my sights on, that's all. "

He side-eyes the stranger again. Actually getting a good look at him. And... ooooh. Did not exactly hate what he saw. What was that about the bigger picture? Mari would certainly like to take in the bigger picture of this man.

He'd tried to be quiet, set his shoes by the door and shucked all three knives kept on his body to not stab either of them in his sleep. Niall easily slid under the sheets and promptly tucked himself up against Morgan, head bent into the other's neck. "There are no free beds in my house and people do go to sleep angry."