Lucian Graymark

The fist hits hard and he’s thrown of kilter for just a second before he regains his balance, once more standing ready in fighting stance. The second swipe is avoided by ducking out of the way - thankfully, as those claws could’ve dealt some serious dangerous.

He crouches low, muscles tense and ready to launch himself at the wolf if necessary, but first: “I said that your partners don’t seem to last long.” He should stop now, but the attacks had erased any trace of reason and so he continued while he circled around the werewolf.

“I mean, there’s your Shadowhunter and then your police buddy…” 

He’d grieved for Jocelyn, even when he wasn’t allowed to attend her funeral, he’d grieved for her, nearly lost his humanity because of it-- but Alaric... Losing Alaric was still a fresh wound, and at the mere mention of him, Luke could feel himself giving in to an emotion he’d desperately kept at bay.

“Shut up!” His voice is broken as bones shift and break, contorting and disfiguring his body until he’s unrecognizable. He growls low, teeth bared and hackles raised. Poised to attack, he launches into the Vampire without reasonable thought. 

“What are you doing?” He was standing right in front of Luke now, having sped from the door too fast to be seen clearly, in an attempt to keep the scent of blood trapped between them.

His fangs were bared, entirely an instinctual reaction ( one he could normally control easily ), but the werewolf smelled so good and he was just so hungry. The days without sustenance weighing heavily on his mind as his throat burned for just a small taste.

How could this man be so incredibly stupid, “Do you want to start a war?” Because a war is what would happen if his people lost control and attacked maybe killed the New York alpha - even if it was his own damn fault.

Raphael’s sudden movement doesn’t shock him, he’s just glad it’s only Raphael and not any other vampires, drooling over his blood. He’s only offering this gift to the leader of the clan, no one else.

       “A war is what will happen if you are too weak to control your vampires.” He isn’t talking about the danger he’d just put his life in, he’s talking about innocent mundanes that might end up mauled to death because the leader of Vampire Clan wasn’t capable of keeping his own in check.

He doesn’t move or draw his injured hand back. Instead, he lifts his hand a touch higher between them, in offering. “I’m trying to keep the peace--” Among other things, "You need to be stronger than the rest of your clan, or else there’ll be dissidence.”  

He’s not going to jump the gun and assume he knows what Simon is talking about; he’s known the kid long enough to know it could very well be anything. (Even if the urge to say ‘no, never’ is stronger now than it’s ever been).

      “.................--with?” 

@wolfilim

Look, he enjoys chaos and disorder as much as the next “person”, but the amount of pointless arguments Roderick is expected to get into is frankly exhausting. Appearances be damned, he’s inclined to lighten his workload where he can, and that means interrupting Luke mid-complaint about his behavior. 

“–You’re right. I was out of line.” 

“You have my apologies, Detective.”

     “...--”

     “You-- wh...” What just happened? Roderick is actually agreeing with him and saying he’s sorry? Somewhere Edom is frozen over and pigs are actually capable of flight. His posture straightens, and his jaw relaxes, but there’s still conflict expressed across his features, unsure how to feel that the man had given up being a pain in his ass (for the moment).  It feels like a false sense of security.

why are you signing werewolves in general up to your weird fetishes

Please no consultation. And blood in a cup is never where it ends. Ask Simon. 

how about no