[Jules] What was the last book you really got into?

         “STRANGER IN A Strange Land. Fitting, no?”

How do you feel about your fiancee so far? (Zane)

         “I SUPPOSE I’M not meant to feel about my fiancee. She doesn’t feel about me.”

how do you feel about your betrothed? (jules)

         “GENEVIEVE IS A lovely woman, I think I’ve said that before. She has a big heart. I don’t quite think I deserve someone as caring and kind as she is after the way I’ve behaved. Not to mention that she’s beautiful. More than just the way a supernatural creature is, mind you. She’s far more beautiful than any immortal vampire I’ve ever met, and they’re meant to be appealing, aren’t they? Eh, I’m rambling.”

[Jules] What’s your go-to funny story?

         “FUNNY STORY? LIKE a joke? Or a personal life experience? I don’t really think I have any funny life experiences. I ate poison ivy for a fifty dollar dare once. I’m not allergic. The kid’s eyes bulged out of his head when I did it. I found that kind of funny.”

Zane, do you ever worry about how your magic might hurt people?

         “NOT REALLY. ANYONE who purchases my services is warned that there will be a cost to them. Buyer beware and all that. If they know something bad could happen and still decide to use it, it’s not really my fault or responsibility, is it?”

Atlas, what's one place you've always enjoyed?

         “GERMANY. IT’S ALWAYS been one of the most welcoming countries. Rich culture, nice art, beautiful women … I’d live there if I could. Maybe when we can leave this place I will.”

(dcrkside)

       Mateo was impressed. The man next to him didn’t seem like a scotch drinker, but it didn’t really matter when someone wanted to block out the outside world. His eyes followed the bartender, pretty and efficient – two things Mateo valued over much else. “Oh? Are you going to elaborate or leave a stranger in suspense?” Eyebrows raised, he greedily grabbed the glass once placed in front of him and took a sip. It wasn’t his usual brand, but it would do the job nicely. He let the liquid coat his tongue before turning his head to study the blond. He didn’t smell like a wolf or vampire, but who knew these days. He could be a normal human, but they usually didn’t wander into this establishment. “Yes, there are other things you can do too. What are you trying to forget?”

         IT WAS MORE than a sip that Zane took. Half of the glass was gone after his first mouthful and the witch crinkled his nose in slight but at least it was smoother than his shot. “I’d say the same thing everyone else is upset about here: marriage. But they all realize how rainbow and sunshine their intended futures are going to turn out once they meet their affianced.” He set the glass down and finally turned to his stool companion. “I’m fairly certain I was some evil dictator in a past life. She’s kind, beautiful, and colder than Siberian winter.” The comparison made himself snort. When the bartender strolled back around he murmured, “This will be gone before your next pass. Another? Seven fingers this time.”

(natashaxwells)

“You should stick to not talking. It works better for you,” she sighed as she took a sip from cup. She rolled her eyes so intensely she thought they might fall out when he explained his line of work. “Of course it comes with a price. You’re more of a djinn than a witch.” No wonder he couldn’t be bothered to care what the people around them thought. Grey magic witches were despicable even among their own kind. Natasha ran into a few gypsy style witches that practiced the same line of magic in New England. They no longer exist–really not even her doing. Their own magic ended up biting them in the ass. She wasn’t surprised when he mentioned sacrificing his own. Some of the covens were positively cult like in their following of what they deemed to be proper magical rules and guidelines.  “Here’s the thing, dear. If I say yes, the hunger, the cravings, the annoying symptoms go away but in turn I lose my sense of sight or smell. Or it could be something benign like losing my car keys for a week. That’s a hell of a gamble.” she glanced over at him. “You’re taking quite a bit of a gamble yourself assuming I won’t kill you if I don’t like how this turns out.” As it were, Natasha had very little to lose and no respect for any peace laws the council put in place. Killing this charlatan was sure to start a war and she couldn’t be bothered to give one single fuck.

         “YOU SHOULD STICK to manners. Being consistently rude to others doesn’t get you what you want.” He shrugged at her explanation of his magic. He could cast all kinds: black, white, everything in between. His preference and skill lay with crafting grey. Dangerous, difficult, and more ... entertaining in the outcome. “It could be something benign like losing your car keys. It could be something drastic like losing your sight. I don’t choose what it is, the magic does. The magic chooses when and what it takes. It’s not my price.” Could he cast her a spell that would curb her hunger with no cost? Sure. Would he? Where was the fun in that? “You could try to kill me. In fact, assume I’m an easy target. It makes it more interesting. Regardless --- if you say no then that’s it. I’ll stand up and leave you be for the rest of your surely miserable existence. It’ll be a sad day when you lose control and rip the throat out of some innocent human tourist, but that’s not my problem.” None of it was. But the amusement spread across his face lingered. “The choice is, and in this matter forever will be, yours. Just need to say the word.”

(dcrkside)

       The debacle with the hunters was over, not that it mattered to Mateo one way or another. He was only disappointed the hunters hadn’t reached out for more of an upper hand. He had quite a few magical possessions in hand that could have tipped the scales. Either way, it was good to get out of room. Pacing and endless phone calls had gotten boring. Immediately regretting not buying his own bottle of scotch, he pushed in towards the bar. A man next to him brushed against him and before Mateo could get off some scathing comment, he was offering to pay for his drink. Turning to his other side, he elbowed whoever was there and squeezed into a seat. “Scotch, neat.” He then turned to the man. “Rough week?” There was no warmth in his voice, but it was easier to feign interest than ignore him altogether. 

         “MAKE IT TWO.” Fingers rose to indicate it, shot disappeared in an instant as if whatever thought had stopped him from downing it was now completely gone and out the window with the mention of scotch. Zane peered at the man from the corner of his eye before giving the slightest of shrugs. “Rough rest of my life, apparently.” Whatever happened with the hunters and the people here --- he didn’t care, either. Zane was an outcast even among the citizens of New Orleans, though he was sure he did it to himself. No connections, family, or friends ... he worked, he had minimal interaction, and he went to bed. Rinse and repeat. The arranged marriages, though. That would throw a wrench in it. Did throw a wrench in it. “Can only drink to make it seem less worse, right?”

(evedecker)

The infirmary finally discharged Jules, but that didn’t mean that Eve was ready to let him do a 5K run or swim the English Channel. No, he was on strict orders to take it slow and rest easy and she was here to help. Dinner out on the town became dinner in his suite, and Eve was ready to play chef. She would be the first to admit cooking wasn’t one of her talents, but she could make a mean grilled cheese and tomato soup when needed. Tonight’s menu was a simple one: spaghetti. No way she could fuck that up (she hoped, at least.) She had gone out to the grocery store in the morning and picked out fresh ingredients to bring tonight. She also brought a back up option of Chinese take out in case this all turned out horribly tragic. Eve laid out the pots, pans, and ingredients on the kitchen island as Jules walked in from the other room. “Hey,” she smiled brightly at him. “How are you feeling? Any better?”

@eviiscerated

         IF JULES HAD never experienced cabin fever before he was certainly experiencing it now. Learning the lessons of his kind had been a bit of a slap to the face as a boy: his father nearly laughed his head off when Jules had discovered monkshood in the wild. Oh, what a pretty blossom he remembered the words as he reached down and went to pluck for the stems. The burns on his arms and fingers were a cruel reminder that pretty things were not always nice. He’d been stuck in the house for a short while then, but enough to be able to have his freedom. The burns disappeared and he went on his merry way. This time. This time he was in the doorway of the kitchen watching the blonde like a hawk, desperate for outside interactions. The wound on his chest was, mostly, healed save for the random twinges of pain. The flesh was a fresh and naked pink: a stark contrast against his normally pallid flesh. He did not mind that he’d bear the scar for the rest of his life. “I think I’m going a little insane, to be honest. I’ve never despised the same four walls so much.” Jules leaned his head into the door frame, shifting attention to the bags, “What did you go and get? You didn’t have to buy anything.”

(thexwildones)

The only comfort in being forced to wed a second time was that her father would be there every step of the way. That first time around Leah had been left with no choice, she had to play their given story. And while no one had protested when she insister her ‘brother’ walk her up the aisle or been so excited and teary eyed when he made a speech, this time who he really was to her would be no secret. Those were the only times she had felt as if the story they played to be accepted around in human societies really had taken anything from her. Otherwise she hadn’t really been bothered by it. The day itself of course had been emotional the first time around because her mother wasn’t there and her siblings would never be either. Leah was prepared that this second wedding day might invoke those same emotions and longings for the rest of her family. While the demand to marry someone rubbed her in all the wrong ways, the vampire was somewhat prepared to go trough the motions as the arrangement was seen trough. 

Leah felt herself blush, though only slightly, as she realized her nerves had caused her to repeat herself. How embarrassing. He might come to the conclusion that she was some kind of nitwit. Though if he did, and that worked as a repellent, she shouldn’t be offended or annoyed. Anything she could do to keep the space between them would be a mercy, to make sure that he didn’t get attached when she had no intentions, nor were capable, of returning such emotions. His posture was very clear, showing the same resistance and tension that were in her own. In some ways, that was worse.. they were both opposed to what was being asked of them, and they were both likely to fight against it, possibly causing each other offense or emotional hurt in the process. On the other hand, if he was as reluctant as she was, then he wouldn’t care as much when she wasn’t able to give him much or interested in engaging too often. Sure they had to complete the ceremony and possibly live in the same house, but there was no one who would check if their marriage was consummated or if they lived as a married couple. Leah nodded, still very much staring as she thought, her mind very active as usual. “Neither do I. This city isn’t my home and I was perfectly happy living life on my own terms with my father but it seems neither of us gets to live happily ever after in peace.” She said, her tone calm but neutral. “Likewise. Its actually a small relief to hear because I’m not capable of giving my heart out a second time. I wouldn’t have been able to be whats deemed as a good wife to you. My only regret is that you are stuck with me.. we’re stuck with each other and as I see it our only option is to make it as bearable as possible.” 

         PERHAPS IT WAS his grey magic at work. Perhaps he had, with the coven, done a few too many dark spells that it was his karmic retribution --- karma was a bitch like that, Zane knew it all too well. A few too many spells cast for humans knowing they would receive what they wanted but lose something (even if it was nothing of true importance) in return and ... this must have been the punishment for that. No, he wasn’t seeking love. The idea that love existed at all was a strange concept lest it be trapped between himself and dear family. While it was lost in that manner he knew that, by some off chance, it might exist in other dark corners of the world. To seek often meant you would never find it. To be told outright you were neither wanted, nor would you be loved --- was a bitter slap on the face. At least the witch knew well-enough to keep his politesse in place despite the ever growing sour flavour behind his teeth. A true marriage of convenience. Maybe they wouldn’t even have to live together. Maybe they could make an arrangement where they each were able to take their separate lovers and it wouldn’t even matter they had a “spouse” in the first place. Maybe this was a polite meeting and they never had to see one another again --- until the ceremony, and they could part ways.

The rigidity in his shoulders did not lessen. Instead it seemed as if it tensed and, if such things actually existed, Zane imagined there was a little man inside of his head who trudged out from his workhouse with a bucket and hand spade ready to build a wall. Mortar and stone, higher than he already had, ready to shut out the world and live alone. It almost seemed as if coming here for sanctuary was the worse fate. Perhaps he could run it, flee, disappear to some dark corner of the world and become a hermit. That wouldn’t be so bad. He hadn’t realized the sigh that escaped his tiers. His back might break for how much tension he carried in his shoulders now. “I suppose we both know where we stand on this, then.” Was there anything else to talk about? Was there any point in telling her any more about himself? Did she care? Likely not. “Forgive my ignorance, I’ve only freshly met any species other than human or witch --- is there anything you’d like to eat, perhaps? Or drink? If you can.”

         PERCHED AT THE bar, hunched over like any other patron who spent too much time there with the purpose of getting themselves blasted, Zane waited with fingers wrapped around a shot glass. It was almost as if he were contemplating drinking it at all and the sour expression on his features was pressed only by the thickness of his lips --- the boy could sure pout. Only when the body beside him brushed against his elbow (perhaps he should have tucked it in a bit more) did he murmur to the bartender, “Drinks for them too, on me. It’s a week to drink.”

(mitchellvalasco)

❝ gallery?? does that mean you sell art? ❞ 

         “I DO. I’VE got two currently: one in New York and one here. I was looking to open one in L.A. but that’s on hold until this council-marriage business is settled out. Do you attend?”

Me and my song, we’ll do it alone.

Capsize, Big Black Delta

(enchanting-naida)

“Ugh I’m so bored. Can we stop freaking out about the council and shit and just enjoy ourselves for once?  I’d like to have at least one night before I’m off job hunting.”

         “I’M RATHER TIRED of hearing about the council and the events past as well.” Though his chest was a harsh reminder that it happened --- an ugly pink scar from collar bone to below his rib cage would mar him forever ... but Jules was tired of hearing it all. “Do you have a job you’re hoping for in particular?”