creepin

@venusmagnus location: ian's apartment notes: biter connect. Going with Ian was probably bitten by Magnus on Halloween, made into a thrall, then the senate wiped the minds of humans so he has no real recollection. That's just his bestie.

Magnus never really ended up having thralls because, more often than not, he ended up killing those he drank from. He'd been more conscious of it lately though. The last thing he'd wanted to do was make Ayla's job difficult because he was being a menace to society. However, he'd met Ian when he'd first gotten out from being imprisoned. He'd wanted a constant at the time, someone he could fall back on when he couldn't find blood at all. The man was human, but it was enough to satiate the Venus vampire. That was all that mattered, wasn't it? Ian was just lucky that Magnus hadn't killed him yet. Purposefully or not. Then again, he actually considered the human somewhat of a friend now even though the man was just a thrall.

She hated these goddamn statues from the first moment that she had heard they were being made. This was now her first time looking up at them, seeing the apparent heroes of the universe cast out in stone. They were well-made, she couldn't deny that. But Morrigan hated them. She hated the fact she had to look at Ezekiel and Gabriel and know they were gone every time she passed by. She hated that this was the way she found out how her own fucking grandmother looked like. That it reminded her Titania's death and the ascension on the elves meant the end of her aspirations for their doom. She was too tired and grief-struck to worry about daddy-issue-fueled vengeance now.

More specific. Well, he wasn't quite sure what she meant by that, but it was interesting to think about. He'd asked her if she wanted to go and that was the response he'd been given. It really made Magnus think about just what their place was in all of this. The two of them had their progenies that were still around along with their progenies' progenies. Then there were their sires, too. There was a lot to keep them here, but there was also a lot to keep them from staying, too. Either way, wherever she went, he would follow. Even if it was as simple as walking away from some statues.

I am so sorry. That's what she wants to tell him, break down and perhaps beg him to forgive her for everything. It's a guilt she is not accustomed to. Heartbreak was one thing, this was something entirely different. "It was unbearable to lose you." Harlow decides on, voice soft but still firm. Not quite the magister tone, but something more akin to a mother. "And you don't have to be sorry about it or sympathize at all. I know I could have always been better to you." He was a owed a great deal by her, she would never forget that. "I do not expect you to have any sort of attachment to me, but I would like to be in your life, Magnus."

Of course it was unbearable. That was always the case when a sire lost their progeny or a progeny lost their sire. Magnus had a feeling that Harlow's feelings about the matter were much more elaborate than just that though. This whole relationship was much different than he had ever expected it to be. He'd been fine not knowing who his sire was. The only reason he'd ever known that they could still be alive was because he hadn't felt the loss of anyone from their line. Now that she was here trying to form some sort of relationship, he really didn't know how to go about it. "You don't have to tell me not to be sorry about it or sympathize. I hadn't planned on it." He hadn't been alive long enough to feel her death at least. "We already have an attachment. You're my sire. Even if I didn't want you around, you would be." Not to say he didn't want her around. He just wasn't sure how to express that to her without feeling like he was being soft about all of this.

They weren't an overtly emotional bunch and without warmth from their cold touch, affection could be sparse at times too but the love was always there. Even when they were apart, the connection to her sire was never severed and the buzzing in the back of her head grew louder whenever the nights locked within the prison became awful and unbearable. It is a good thing that she is no longer a Triumvir because her resentment towards the Senate about keeping her in the dark about Magnus being locked within the Catacombs remains still. Arms are thrown around his neck and she pulls him close for a hug, a breath of relief that she didn't need leaves her lungs. "I saw you die.. I had to go on when I witnessed you die on the battlefield and it almost broke me but I couldn't let your death be in vain and so I had to fight."

Well, maybe he should've expected this reaction from her. Fifteen years was a minuscule amount of time when someone was immortal, but he could imagine that time hadn't been great. Which was why he wrapped his arms around her to return the hug. It was the least he could do after he'd unintentionally left her twice now. "And I'm glad you did. Because here we both are now, right?" He pulled away slightly to place his hands upon her shoulders. Broken was one hell of a way to put what had happened. Yet it felt like the only possible word they could use now. "You're okay now?" It was a loaded question, but he was sure he knew the answer. How could anyone be okay after all of that?