𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒍﹙ ᵏⁱˢˢ ﹚

@qikins    (  . . .  )      [         for   centuries,   ambrosia   had   mastered   the   art   of   music,   despite   her   family’s   preference   for   wealth,   politics,   power   and   marriage  alliances.   the    vampire   had   found   a   passion   in   pouring   her   heart   out   through   the   strings   of   her   cello,   doing   concerts   to   share   her   talents.   people   were   compelled   by   her   playing,   captivated   by   the   way   each   note   seemed   to   echo   her   emotions.   it   wasn’t   just   the   beauty   of   the   sound;   it   was   the   raw   honesty   in   every   stroke   of   the   bow,   the   unspoken   story   in   each   vibrato.      ]       I’ve   been   playing   for   a   long   time,   so   I’m   glad   you   think   so.   but   I   think   of   it   as   something   more   intimate   —   a   bond,   unspoken   yet   everlasting. 

@hyrded    ( . . . )      [         delicate    fingers   grasped   the   collar   of   his   shirt   with   a   surprising   strength   that   didn’t   quite   match   her   appearance.   though   relatively   tall   at   6’1,   her   body   was   slender,   features   petite   and   ironically   innocent-looking.   but   her   eyes   were   sharp,   narrowed   and   yet,   still   faintly   amused   at   his   words. 
            
                      only   the   uninvited   ones.      [   he   may   have   attempted   to   blend   in,   but   not   many   things   went   unnoticed   by   the   vampire.   she   had   seem   him,   lingering   in   the   shadows,   hiding   (  or   was   it   observing ?   ),   and   then   his   scent   had   hit   her   like   a   hurricane.   not   a   mortal,   not   even   a   vampire,   but   something   else.   it   was   intriguing,   yes,   but   deeply   unsettling.   this   social   event   was   a   private   case,   and   he   shouldn’t   have   been   there.      ]
            
                      perhaps   you   should’ve   tried   harder   to   remain   invisible.     [     her   voice   was   soft,   but   the   words   carried   a   weight   that   made   them   feel   like   a   cold   breeze   against   his   neck.   she   leaned   in   just   a   fraction,   the   tips   of   her   fingers   still   pressing   firmly   against   his   throat.   her   gaze   never   left   his,   a   storm   of   curiosity   and   something   darker   swirling   in   those   deep,   predatory   eyes.     ]      what   are   you   doing   here   ? 

@blqndiee    /    < 33

@vampiricmuse    ( . . . )       [       the   brunette’s   eyebrows   rose.     ]      / you’re /   vontele   ?     [    now   / that /   was   a   name   that   she   recognised.   her   gaze   wandered   to   one   of   the   very   many   paintings   in   this   hallway.   the   one,   in   fact,   she   had   spent   many   hours   simply   staring   at,   finding   herself   lost   in.   ]      impressive.   I   guess   our   artistry   / is /   more   intertwined   than   I   first   thought .   
            
                      [      with   practiced   grace,   ambrosia   set   her   gloves   atop   her   cello   case.   two   humans,   clearly   compelled   and   accustomed   to   this   silent   choreography,   stepped   forward   to   carry   it   away — guardians   of   the   instrument   until   her   next   inevitable   performance.   she   turned,   the   corner   of   her   mouth   lifting   in   a   smile   that   danced   just   shy   of   playful.   ]    come   on   then.     [       she   said   lightly,   already   moving   ahead.       ]      let’s   go   before   we’re   mobbed   by   adoring   fans.     [      the   tease   was   effortless,   not   boastful,   but   delivered   with   the   knowing   confidence   of   someone   used   to   being   seen — and   admired.       ]
            
            

[ there were times like this when the vampire wished he was as able to have his name signed across his paintings throughout the decades, his true name, as even this one was a lie. he smiled, amber hues darting across her features in gentle admiration. ] damien voltair but i’ve gone by many others. vontele is one of them, i believe you’ve heard the name. [ the vampire replies confidently, this very hall was named after him from ages ago after he did the majority of their art and sculpt pieces they had throughout the interior and the entrance. he nods, a charming grin following that revealed his sharp canines. he nods. ] i think i know the place.

@vampiricmuse    ( . . . )         [      it   was   unmistakable — he   was   just   like   her.   a   vampire.   his   scent   alone   confirmed   it,   tinged   with   something   ancient   and   familiar.   ambrosia   let   out   a   soft,   amused   chuckle.     ]   yet   here   you   are…   you   are   an   artist  ?  forgive   me — what’s   your   name  ?
            
            [       she   always   had   obligations.   family   ties   thick   as   blood,   and   hers   was   nearly   noble.   ancestral   lineage   steeped   in   power,   prestige,   and   politics.   endless   gatherings,   formalities,   manipulations   behind   silk   gloves — so   many   events   she   was   expected   to   attend   with   grace   and   a   painted   smile.   the   corners   of   her   mouth   tugged   upward.   fuck   that.      ]    
            
            alright.  I   admire  the  forwardness.   [    she   said,   voice   low   with   mischief.    ]      I   know   a   place   downtown.   a   bar.   / artist   to   artist /,   I’m   sure   you’ll   appreciate   it.   they   serve   a   wide   selection — red,   and...   otherwise.