@mxldito | continued from h e r e

"Maybe I'm just here to chat, hmm?" Bella tilts her head, watching the other watch her from where she sits, propped up on the counter.

In truth, Bella didn't have any sort of agenda, outside of having caught wind of there being a new vampire running around in what she would largely consider her territory. Good thing she wasn't nasty about it.

Her gaze drifts past the other's shoulder, down to the humans that had sparked this whole discussion.

"Are you in town permanently, then? I just like to keep tabs of who's where, that's all."

"Haha, naked!"

"Watch it. The night's not over yet and you still have most of your clothes."

@mxldito

Silent. Still, as the grave, a figure stands by the water's edge. A familiar shape, however somehow deeply uncanny. A little too rigid and unfazed by the rain that fell, soaking his suit. A blanket of droplets beading down thin wisps of neatly groomed ebony hair.

A soft sigh broke the rigidity of Malachi. The motion of another. The stench of something unnatural lingering a little too close. His scarred face leading his body around toward the sound. A dark eye squinted from behind a lightly tinted frame, the glass covering the right having entirely blacked out. His chin lifted slightly. Unsure if it was worth getting involved with the passerby. Either way for the moment he would remain silent unless spoken to.

Contd Thread II @mxldito

"Only fifth?" Holding the corpse up underneath its armpits, Marko paused to glance over at them with a raised eyebrow. That number was poor -- or was it average? They tried to space their victims out evenly, so as not to raise too much suspicion, but sometimes the hunger was insatiable. Every single milk carton in stores displayed multiple different people who went missing that week. Santa Carla was nicknamed the 'Murder Capital' for a reason, and one of those was standing directly across from Coyote with a giddy grin on his face. Those pearly white fangs were now stained a bright red, his mouth completely covered from where he latched onto his victim's throat. Like a rabid dog, he made short work of it; there was barely anything left by the time he was done. "Are you losing your appetite, Menendez?" As he asked the question, he released his hold. A heavy thump! sounded as the slab of meat folded against the dirt, head lolling to one side and empty eyes staring into the abyss.

Rolling out his shoulders, Marko dropped into a deep squat and stared down at the corpse in avid concentration. It seemed like a long time before he finally glanced up at the other and asked what they should do with him. Burn or bury? Their answer had him laughing wildly. He liked their sense of humour. It was why he invited them out to ride with him in the first place, but unfortunately, their little jaunt turned into a full-blown confrontation with a Surf Nazi who had no appreciation for Marko nearly running him down. Good riddance -- one less of them! Who would miss him? They kept recruiting more, so somebody would soon replace him.

"Yeah, you're right. I never thought to ask him..." As he continued speaking, the vampire started pulling at the laces of the corpse's shoes. They were some sweet kicks and he wanted them. He would never wear them; he just liked the look of them. Suddenly jumping to his feet, Marko gave the other a wide smile. "What about leaving him on the train tracks? That freight knocked the shoes right off his feet!" The bridge was often full of kids messing around, risking their lives for the sake of adrenaline. He should know. It was where they forced the oldest Emerson to hang onto the bars underneath as part of their little initiation. It was the most fun they ever had, witnessing the fear in his eyes as the train rattled by overhead. "Obliteration station."

@mxldito liked for a starter

A hum emanates from the artist as he works with his magic. Lost in thought as his fingers moved meticulously to create a piece that was a mix of sculpture and paint. Pulling at the paint with his fingers, the canvas which burst with color soon became a three-dimensional piece. Shifting in color and shimmering in the soft candle light the paints followed what they were told by Hweis vision.

He envisioned a marble statue, etched with gold, overgrown with ivy vines that shimmer in the moonlight an alluring purple. The gold of the statue worn as much as the marble, which looked like it struggled to stay upright. Yes, his vision was rather vivid, beautiful. He could see the roots of the ivy ripping apart the rock causing it to crack. Overtaking it so it blanketed the stone.

Then he pauses, the humming stopping with in inhale as vibrant purple and blue eyes look around. He can sense a visitor, the hues of the room shifted in his eyes as the aura of the stranger came into view. A violent red, staining their body, he could see how the aura of death clings around their mouth and hands. As if stained with invisible blood that soaked deep into them. “You should knock, friend.” his voice is soft, welcoming nevertheless. “I am sorry to be so engrossed in my work if you were standing there for long. I tend to be rather focused when making pieces.”

@mxldito || cont from X

“I mean… oops. I don't know why I…”

Snapped like that. The corpse on the ground had made some hateful comment on his smell and the rat on his shoulder, and Otis had already been having a rough week... in addition to feeling the vitae in his system starting to wane. Otis didn't know if the man reaching out was to swat the rodent off his shoulder or grab him, but something in him completely blanked out, and when he came back to his senses, the man was dead on the floor.

He tried to focus on Coyote as he took the offered bandana and started to rub at the cool spots he could feel on his face. The fact that he'd killed someone didn't phase him, but the seeming loss of control did.

“I have a fridge… but the house doesn't have power. …My rats can take care of at least part of him. Make his mass a little easier to handle.”

@mxldito

Hidden injury or not, Eido could smell the vitae the stranger was losing. It was explained before she could ask them what happened, and she tried not to look… too worried. She might've only been part of this world for a few years, but she'd never actually run into the fiends known as Tzimisce… she knew of the grudge they held against the Tremere, though... even if she wasn't sure that counted against the clan's ghouls.

Best she follow the stranger's graciously given advice. (She bit back a comment on the creativity of using hedge shears as a weapon.) A hand jammed in her pocket thumbed at the two throwing knives hidden there. Who knew running off taking a night to herself would turn itself out like this.

"If it's not alone, maybe we shouldn't be, either? Mind me sticking with you for a minute until we're farther away?"

          @mxldito

               “Things have changed and they are going to need to learn to adapt.” Pause as vengeance personified observed the group of rowdy men looking to start some trouble. “They are strong, but they are no more than simple brutes.”

@mxldito / continued.

Now this gets her to halt in her movements and speech, blond eyebrows drawn together in confusion and index finger pressed against her lips, clearly thrown off-guard by the obviousness in which their reply is coated. She clearly remembers the torn bodies, the blood flowing freely as it had escaped the confines of human veins. " Then who did I feast with back in 1460... ", a mumble, meant for herself but clearly not caring if they heard it as well. But her attention is a fleeting bird and soon stolen away by the continuation of their conversation. " Oh, smash! I'm sure he'd be still a delicious delight nowadays! "

: ̗̀➛ @mxldito; continued from here

"And how do you know I just don't want you to tell me what to do and boss me around a little bit?" Yongsun grinned. Perhaps... Whenever someone did try to boss him around, he was acting like a brat and did the exact opposite of what he was told. That might be it. But it was more fun that way! And speaking of fun, this was a great opportunity to see how he can match his new clothes with the ones he currently had a little more interesting.

"Okay, but I was you to be honest if some outfits look awful, okay? I put my trust in you." Yongsun chuckled and opened up his walk-in wardrobe. "Hm, depends. What do you have in mind for making it up to me?"

Are they on social media? + Do they have a higher education?

Everyday Muse Questions || Accepting

She is on social media, mostly Instagram and YouTube under the username SenSongs55 (she came up with that name on the fly when she was first starting and changing her “brand” to something more artful now seems too tedious to try dealing with).

She does not have a higher education! When it comes to traditional education, consider her dropped out towards the end of high school. She knows how to read, write, and do enough math to hold a retail job, but that's about it in that regard.

🙌

Nicolas de Lenfent

Lestat's first male lover that we know of, in the books.

Note: Lestat had frequented brothels and bawdy houses in the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes before losing his 'virginity' at 14.

Nicolas, our divine violinist, craved ruin so badly that he convinced Lestat (with Gabrielle's help) to run away with him to Paris. A skilled violinist and craftsman of well-off new money in the Auvurgne, France. Deeply depressed, dark-eyed, dark-haired. He/him, bisexual (male leaning) queer to me. I also personally read him as South Asian coded, as a brown bi-genderqueer person myself. But that is a bit of popular fanon backed up by history (citation 1) (citation 2) as @medievalfantasyqueen can attest.

Nicki's playlist.

brown Nicki - playlist.

"If goodness does exist, I am the opposite of it and I revel in it." — Nicolas de Lenfent, The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice

Shamelessly plugging: @symphonyofmalice, @dvilsfiddler, @beautifulsavagegarden & savagegardenfleurs.

(¬‿¬) //If nobody else has gotten to it lol//

For every (¬‿¬) I get my muse will remove a piece of clothing. || Accepting!

... Damn, he was hoping no one would bite. Here went nothing. With another huff, he turned and gave the boxer-briefs the same treatment, thumbs over the waistband and pulled them down over his hips to let them fall the rest of the way to the floor. He gave a vague spread of his arms.

"There. Bare as the day I was born. Are you all happy?"

❝ as long as it doesn't interfere with their own stuff the camarilla doesn't give a shit what i do in my spare time, ❞ cosmo offered the explanation tartly, his anger and distaste towards the camarilla and his current circumstances obvious even as he slipped the envelope of fake ID's and social security information across the table. the internet cafe had become cosmo's usual haunt since the camarilla had discovered him and dragged him from the institute, literally, by the hair. small, tucked out of the way, and with a steady stream of foot traffic it served as a good place to distribute his services without drawing attention to himself.

the fact that the cafe sat in neutral territory was an added benefit. cosmo settled into the booth and took the fullblood in for probably the first time since they'd entered the cafe. sure, he'd spared enough of a glance to recognize them as who he was supposed to be meeting, but now . . . well, they were kind of hard not to look at. ❝ not that you asked, ❞ cosmo said, brows furrowing, ❝ it's just most people ask, like they think they're gonna swoop out of the fucking ceiling or something, ❞ // @mxldito , vamp stuff idk we winging it .

Contd Thread II @mxldito

A small smile appeared on his face at their biting response, expecting nothing less. They were automatically on-guard, like an alley cat getting spooked by a nearby noise; he was waiting for the claws and fangs to come out any second in defence. But apart from a half-hearted scoff, nothing else happened. An apology was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew it would make the situation awkward. There was nothing more humiliating than being perceived. So he kept quiet; it was what he did best. Whilst the boys put themselves at the centre of attention, Dwayne preferred to take a step back and observe. It made knowing the enemy that much easier, sometimes. But out of them all, he was the least likely to have people chasing after him. He avoided confrontation whenever possible, sure, but he was most certainly not afraid of getting his hands dirty. Nevertheless, it was always Dwayne who could deescalate conflict with words. Even between the boys, fighting over such petty things, he was there to provide advice and solutions. It was no surprise that he clocked onto Coyote acting aloof and immediately knew something was bothering them.

"I stopped paying attention to time when I realised it was no longer important anymore," he admitted with a one shouldered shrug, but backtracked his words with a breathy chuckle. "Well...apart from when the sun rises. Like you said, shorter nights means we suffer." It totally messed up their routine, and feeding was sometimes pushed back earlier, which left them feeling less satisfied when the wait until their next feed was longer. A dangerous game to play. Sometimes their solution was to store blood - the cave being naturally cool - but it never tasted the same. They coagulated too quickly, or debris in the blood settled at the bottom and made the texture foul. But they had no choice and were forced to tolerate it. "Hm," he hummed in agreement, leaning forward to drape himself over the banister and stare out across the ocean. The boardwalk was empty after the amusement park closed for the night, leaving the beach completely plunged into darkness and desolate. It was nice - peaceful - and exactly where he knew where Coyote would be. "It takes a while to adjust."

Dwayne listened, offering noises of acknowledgement every now and again as they confided in him. Every vampire had a story to tell, whether it was about their first night or kill, but most were unwilling to share. It felt like a private experience, for some bizarre reason. "Yeah," he responded with a quiet chuckle, lightly drumming his fingers against the banister. "If any vampire says their first night was a breeze, they're straight up bullshitting. They have manuals for everything nowadays, but none on how to be a vampire, y'know?" Max and David taught them everything there was to know, so they were lucky to have somebody to guide them. Most were left to fend for themselves. But Dwayne remembered how self-conscious Paul was in the beginning, whilst Marko spent most of his time skittish and hiding in an alcove in their cave. Now look at them; cocky and wild. There was a pause as Dwayne left room for Coyote to speak again, his attention settling back on them. They had obviously been pondering on this for a good while.

"Too mean for us?" Dwayne laughed, the sound seeming to echo throughout the empty boardwalk. There was no malice, but it was the thought that amused him. "Sorry -- not laughing at you, bud. It's the thought of anybody being meaner than David." That would be a massive achievement. With a soft smile, the vampire shook his head and pushed away from the banister to stand up straighter. "Well, it's still night here, so let's make the most of it. C'mon," he gave Coyote a single pat on their shoulder. "Do you think you're too mean for a beer?"

@mxldito , cont'd from here.

eh, sure…? because all cars are ugly, according to Hidan; sorta practical, but ugly. ( recalling that this train of thought would likely break a guy-he-knew’s heart —or brain, or temper— does nothing but solidify the belief. ) big metal boxes wheeling ‘round, carrying you from point A to point B while you’re sitting on your sorry ass with your zombified brain up in lala land. ( just a handful of seconds of inattention though, and off you go, whee’ing your way off a cliff. at least that’s a prospect. somewhat funny, definitely exciting, as long as you don’t end up just another breathing fleshbag with mobility issues and, instead, land your way straight at the gates of hell. )

the blade waved ‘round peaks his interest, for all the wrong reasons. ( Hidan tilts his head, considering it from the altered angle as if it were an intriguing offer unexpectedly laid at his feet, gilded and silver-plattered, rather than a veiled threat. eyes just a touch wider, pupils dilated to soak it in. or, perhaps, as if he’s considering the grip and the extent of the knife’s usefulness if push were to come to shove. . ..  and, upon reflection, deciding that the other didn’t know their way ‘round it nearly as well as Hidan would have wished them to. he might be wrong. but he usually wasn’t, or cared to admit it. still. a blade is a blade; in the end, it does know how to pierce and to cut, regardless of endpoint effectiveness. )

           “ oi, oi. what's with the look? I ain’t judging. really, none of my business if someone wants to indulge in some recreational vandalism instead of taking that shitshow for a ride. ”  the laughter in his voice indicates that he is taking the whole thing in jest; that the words he spews out, he means. yet something calculating slithers, curls ‘round, lingers right beneath the thin veneer of joviality that his gaze always carries. hmm. it's worth reflecting on, so Hidan briefly contemplates it: is he in the mood for a squabble, or a fight, or a brawl? not necessarily the bad kind, either. just the sort that can get your adrenaline pumping, or, if you’re lucky, good enough to land you in a hospital bed.

            “ though no one ever accused me of being smart. ” quite the contrary, really. his boot comes to rest against the front bumper, as careless as his demeanor. “ so if you wanna go, sure, I’ll go. looks like you could do with losing some steam. ” how public-spirited of him, truly!