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«forgive me if i find your home to look most beautiful when everyone isn’t occupying it.»    rarely does she speak softly to him,  & these are on of those rare moments.  the moments where she’s not angry,  nor vengeful.   she’s not anything——other than hollow,  it felt like.   her heart had not thumped in her chest a long time and it is by her own fault she is cursed to live without it.    only few of the many thoughts that went through her head during the dark hours.   that and the longing of her favorite meals she no longer had the appetite for.   «but if you’d rather i leave i will not fight you on it.   i have no place here,  anyway.»    @fangoire    she leans.  weight melting into the dark polished wood,  of  the mantle,   the head of a lion——or perhaps a dragon,     stared back at her with an open maw,  teeth bared.      

@crvsnik     nice to look at.   [he repeated,   this time without any of the irony he usually carried as he hums in agreement.  embers snapped sharply, reflecting in his eyes just as much as in hers,    though he looked at it like one looks at a painting,   not a source of comfort]    yes.   that’s really all it needs to be.    and you——mysteriously——haven’t complained about it once.   progress.   [he angled a glance her way momentarily,   a small tilt in his brow.   his gaze lingered on her posture,   on the way her hands folded into each other.   seeming satisfied with what he had managed to drink out of his glass,  he pours the rest into the flames before them,   orange and red exploding upward into the chimney]    your senses dull to it eventually,   the loss of normality.   or you find ways to occupy your  /eternal/  time.   in your case,   lurking around my house seems to be a favored pastime.    but i suppose there are worse things in the world to have in the room than you.    

«mhm»         perhaps there was no room to judge him when she herself still found comfort in sleep. rather, the idea of it.  it was one of the many things she’d forever miss from her previous years as a mortal; the ability of the body to shut down just enough to replenish itself,  @fangoire    embracing the unconscious world.  now she was forced to stay awake,  hear everything .     the warmth from the fire (that she cannot feel)   pulls her in.     glowing a blazing reddish orange that reflected in her eyes,   hand in her own hand      «it is nice to look at.. yes»    

[ suki arches a brow at his comment,  the hint of a smirk tugging at her mouth.  she doesn’t bristle;  if anything,  the condescension only sharpened her interest.  she studies him for a moment,  as though he were a puzzle already half-solved.  she shifts her weight—  relaxed.  calculated but eyes never leaving his. ]    okay.  i’ll bite.  i guess,  you answer.  fair?  

@lostinluck        use that pretty little head of yours and figure it out,    i have all the time in the world for guessing games.

@santoire     a soft exhale leaves him——something between a scoff and a laugh as he pulls himself a little further from the darkness,   the faintest glint of amber in his eyes catching the candlelight along the altar]   similar?  if you think i resemble a demon,   you give them far too much credit.    he uncrosses his arms and rises from his empty pew with the slow,   deliberate grace of something that has learned patience over centuries]    i do not pray expecting mercy.  or forgiveness,    or..   salvation.   [he continues,   stepping closer to the altar——not too near,   but nearer than any demon ever could.   his gaze flicks from her to the altar,   lingering on the crackle of light displayed before the two]    i pray because god does not turn his face from the dead.   and he has never turned it from me.    [he places two fingers briefly on the edge of the altar——not a tremor,   not a burn,   nothing demonic recoiling,   nothing holy rejecting him. just contact and reverence.   a faint smile pulls at the corner of his mouth——dry,   humor-laced,   ancient]   i come here to remember,    to measure myself against who i once was.   and to see if the silence feels any different.    so no,   i’m not here to ask him for anything.   but if he listens——then i would be rude not to speak.

@fangoire  yes, of course.  your aura is so similar i have almost forgotten.  [a jab of course. there was no similarities to him or even the most smallest of demons.  oddly,  he still carried the faintest of light——like threads of lightning in a sea of black. while demons had no white within them at all.   stella moved herself away from the altar, turning herself to face the exact dark corner where he sat.  she wasn’t praying, not exactly.   places like these only allowed herself to examine her power freely to which even now,  she did not understand]    pray then,  if that is what you’re here for.  God hears even the dead. 

@santoire      i’m no demonic entity,   or damned.     matter of fact,   i’ve been a..   /devout/  catholic for about——let me count,  seven centuries?   

[  the witch inhaled deeply,  slender fingers gripping her grimoire tightly.  through gritted teeth she spoke  ]  disregarding my warnings invites pain.  i have no patience for creatures who do not heed my words.  [  her eyes scan ancient text,  flitting through pages that show their age.  finally she looks up,  looking at him.  ]  i will not help clean whatever mess you make by touching something you should not.  i’m helping you enough already. 

@killerbitch     [HIS MOVEMENTS  HALT, FINGERTIPS GRAZING ALONG WHAT HE WOULD ASSUME TO BE OBJECTS OF THE OCCULT,    OF COURSE. WITCHES AND THEIR TALISMANS,   HE TRULY WOULD NEVER UNDERSTAND IT]    waiting invites decay. hesitation invites mistakes.   and quite frankly,   i have no patience for either.   [FINGERS HOVER OVER THE OBJECT AGAIN,    A MIX OF UNWORLDLY FASCINATING,  YET ALSO DELIBERATE AS IF DARING HER TO STOP HIM]    if you wish for me to halt my..   curiosity,   do intervene.   otherwise,   consider it mine to uncover,   and mine alone as i oh so patiently wait.

* the insight is unexpected, though brandon finds himself drawn to the unfamiliar sense of wisdom the other radiated. he was clearly nothing like the men the boy was used to speaking to, nothing like his father, not an adult that seemed out to get him. this man had intellect. it was relieving, lifting a subconscious weight he hadn't realized he was carrying. there's a thoughtful nod, arms folding in consideration, * i'd.. never thought about it that way. you have a good point. * without hesitation, inviting himself to settle, he plops down, seating himself against whatever surface he could find. * what have you learned from the night? 

@ilokind      clearing your head,   huh?   a noble pursuit..   though most end up running in circles,   chasing their own thoughts.    a good habit,   though.  one i should’ve practiced more myself,   back when i was your age.   [FROM THE CORNER OF HIS EYE,  HE STUDIES THE YOUNG WOLF.   ALONE,   DEFENSELESS,   YET FROM WHAT HE COULD GATHER WAS WISE BEYOND HIS YEARS,   WHICH RESULTED IN THE VAMPIRE’S EXPRESSION SOFTENING ONLY THE SLIGHTEST,   OFFERING A SUBTLE,  ALMOST IMPERCEPTIBLE SMILE]    as for me?   i prefer to see where the night leads.   some call it wandering,   some call it——planning.  either way,   it keeps the mind sharp.    keep at it.   the night has a way of teaching you more than you realize——if you pay attention to it.

clearing my head, more or less. sometimes i just like to walk around and think about stuff-- get the brain juices flowing and all that. what about you? 

@fangoire  “mhm.”  [out of all the things that came out of his mouth,  nothing could describe it better than utter regurgitated bullshit.   this wasn’t what he wanted——far from the life he wanted to live, especially if it kept him away from the only two people in his world that he loved the most.   whatever this was was worse than death to him]  “and you didn’t——think at all that surviving was the last thing i wanted?  you’re, what?——almost as old as christ’s resurrection and that thought never cross your mind once?” 

@rockabite      cursed you?    no,   i gave you a way to survive.   what you do with that,   however,   that’s your curse.   not mine.