Posts by Crepe

✧ —

Amasa had a courteous, professional smile plastered onto his face. He was in the midst of talking to a woman, if you considered a one sided rant a conversation. She was merely complaining about all of the eligible bachelors were taken, which the young prince had no interest in, yet he nodded pleasantly and let her speak. She drawled on for far too long, whining in a high pitched voice. Normally, he would've been fine, but with all of the people around him, the scuffling, the chatting, the singing, and everything combined? He was on the edge of insanity by the time she finished. Finally, he decided to abandon his social etiquette and started towards one direction, any direction to get away fromt this mess.

His empty eyes and deadpan expression probably gave away his eagerness to escape, so she said her goodbyes, and he bowed, sending her one last smile. It felt as though he could hear everything thundering tap of every heel and every individual's laugh. Normally, he would never, but the sounds and overwhelming scents drifting off of elegant nobles sent him navigating his way through the ballroom. To him, every step was a risk, he wasn't used to being disoriented by so many people clogging the hall. His heartbeat seemed to jump out of his chest, to the rhythm that his feet hit the marble floor.

Out of mere estimation, he assumed that the person at his heels was the personal guard that had been assigned to him. There was no proof, but any guard assigned by his father was most definetly a watchdog. He felt as though his every move was being watched, analyzed. What did the king hope to find him do? Some major atrocity so he could toss the young prince in jail? That wasn't going to happen. He stopped, and the footsteps behind him halted in tandem. He held up a hand, turning around to face the other. "Would you be so kind as to point me in the direction of a door to the outside? I'm feeling rather faint," He asked politely. There was a hesitance to respond, as if the other was surprised that they were even noticed. "Directly to your right, your highness. Theres a table blocking your path," His breath hitched, wavering. He raised a brow. "Ah! Would you like me to--" The guard began, but Amasa interrupted.

"No." He replied abruptly. He heard a small sound of surprise. "Are you impliying that I'm far too uncoordinated to find my way to a door?" He snapped, words like poison. On the inside, he was wincing. He couldn't stand being so rude, but there was no other way to get this person to leave him be. "No, your highness, I wasn't--" The guard tried to defend, but Amasa interrupted again. "Leave. Enjoy the party. Get near to me again, or try to keep watch, I won't only have your job..." His tone switched to a low voice. "I'll have your head."

He made his way across the ball room, still trying to grasp his surroundings. He couldn't even believe what had just come out of his mouth. How could he have said that to someone? He shook his head, trying to reassure himself. "Better for them to fear me," He muttered, biting at his lip. Amasa held his arms outstretched, knowing that by now, the door were close. He was met by the cool, smooth metal of the door handle and a sigh of relief escaped his lips. He pushed open the door, crisp air filling his lungs. [He went through a different door than Antoine] The warmth of the ballroom became evident only after he had escaped it. He shut the door and leaned his back against the door for a brief moment.

He was fairly sure that he was in the gardens of the east side as he had ordered the maids to do a little research before he agreed to come here. Amasa wasn't quite sure why he was invited in the first place, probably only as a formality. The smell of flowers filled his nose, all sorts of different types that he couldn't possibly identify. As he strolled by the spiky, dew soaked bushes, he let his hand trail across them as he inhaled the faint scent of roses. After a second of simply enjoying his freedom from the noisy prison behind him, a sound made him stiffen. An immediate panic flooded him, what if his father had finally gotten someone to get the job done and Amasa had walked right into the trap? After a second, he tilted his head, curious as to what exactly he was hearing. As took a step forward, the gentle splash of water alerted him. Was that what he had heard?

Brown eyes that had once been a bright gold followed the sound of movement, although it's not as if he could see anything. Suddenly, he felt highly vulnerable, only clad in a velvety red cloth jacket with bright golden accents, adorned with ropes, a flowing, long sleeve white undershirt, trousers, and a pair of boots. The royal garb never felt so awkward. The flowing maroon cape that rested on his shoulders felt heavy as the soft fabric dusted the ground. He resisted the urge to comb back his hair like he usually did, as it would mess up the styled undercut if he did. Without thinking, he moved forward again, the trickle of water greeted him. Although he had been familiarized with the layout from blueprints, he misjudged the distance and ended up almost spiraling into the pond, only managing to catch himself since he realized mid-step. He had the creeping feeling that he wasn't the only one, although he couldn't hear any tell-tale signs of another person around him.

Perhaps it was only his imagination, but he could've sworn there was a rustling of bushes behind him. Out of instinct, he dashed forward, hoping to find cover. However, it seemed as though there was some sort of platform [the gazebo], and his foot clipped the edge of the lip as he stepped up on to it, sending him stumbling forward. Shit.

✧ —

Expecting to smack hard into the ground, he was prepared to roll on to his shoulder and brace for impact. Instead of cold, unforgiving ground, he seemed to crash into something far more... Soft? Warm? What the hell? Regardless, his hands shot out, fingers wrapping around any grip that he could find. Much to his surprise, he found that fabric was bunched up in his hands. Momentarily distracted from the danger earlier, he slowly straightened himself, caution in his movements. Like a hard smack to the face, the realization hit him. Obviously it was another human that had caught him... Caught him? Why in the world would someone do that?

Suddenly it also came to his attention that the other had most likely observed his movements, more specifically, his clumsiness. He had almost fallen in to a pond, gotten spooked by mere sound, and nearly fell for the second time. It had been a while since he was so careless, usually he was perfectly fine in terms of movement, but usually he was in his own home. Heat crept up his neck, burning his ears as he cast an empty glance behind him. Perhaps it was only paranoia that fueled his mad dash towards, well, any direction that wasn't behind him. He opened his mouth to speak, but immedietly shut it. What was he planning on saying? 'Yes i'm running from assassins'?

Not to mention, his embarrased blush only deepened when the other spoke. He had never heard such a pleasant voice before. He cleared his throat, fingers moving to the blade at his hip, tightening around the hilt. It may have been viewed as an aggressive gesture, but as far as he was concerned, he couldn't trust anyone. The faint, ambient noise of the ballroom filled his ears, no tell tale sign of movement. Just as he was about to speak up, the other person introduce themselves. He was sure that all the color had drained from his face, eyes widening slightly at the name.

"F-Ferreira?" He moved a hand up to cover his mouth, stepping back a bit. He back up against the railing, bumping slightly into it, causing him to jump. If he were to run now, would he make it? Or would he plunge straight into some other fountain, or perhaps the shrubbery? It wasn't as if he could escape, and even if he could, it would be highly sham eful. So, he had to face Antoine. He dipped his head slightly, unused to having to bow. If he didn't, it would seem suspicious, but the only people that he had to bow to were his father and brother. "I'm alright," He assured, still at a loss for words. His hands found the railing, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

A small laugh escaped him, a bit nervous, but genuine. After such an embarrasing fall, the other simply asked if he were okay. Any other person, and he would be face down on the ground by now. If he were to give away his name now, how would Antoine react? Surely it wouldn't be negatively, but he wasn't too familiar with this noble. Again, he wasn't quite sure why he was invited, other than his high status. It was even more of a mystery as to why he bothered to show up. He wasn't too present in social circles, so it wasn't like he had anything to lose by ignoring the invitation. He couldn't regret anything now, though. "It's been a wonderful party, Sir Ferreira," His eyes flicked to where he assumed the other may be. Of course, it hadn't been a 'wonderful party' for him. Such cutthroat interactions left a bitter taste in his mouth. The ladies were nothing but desprate, and the men were power-hungry from what he had seen. That also could have just been the crowd that the prince attracted.

His eyes lowered to the ground, dull orbs fixated on the floor of the gazebo. He was sure the gardens were beautiful, but he was cursed with that familiar dark expanse that filled his vision. "My deepest apologizies for..." He cleared his throat, a bit awkwardly. "Running in to you. I was under the impression that there was someone following me," He murmured, running his fingers along the railing, the wood gently scratching at his skin. He was purposefully avoiding the question of his name, which probably came across as rude, but he couldn't get out of it any other way. The chilling air bit at his nose, and he tugged at the thick cape, pulling it tighter around him. It was a huge relief that he wasn't recognized by his appearance, but the crest on his shirt would easily give that away upon closer inspection, so he covered it with the fabric of the cape.

"Are you alright? That was..." He trailed off, thinking. "Quite a catch," He laughed softly, but it died off rather quickly.

✧ —

Rory eyes slowly flicked over to the person sitting down next to him. Much to his surprise, it was the very person he wanted to see. In the light, his eyes flickered, pupils almost resembling slits as he observed Haru. A grin spread across his face as he combed a hand through his hair. He winked, lifting up his shirt to reveal the bandage. The wound was just below the previous scar that stretched across his abdomen, another to add to the collection. He let his shirt fall back down and began nursing his drink again. "Were you worried, spider lily?" He asked sweetly, fingers rapping agains the glass as he shifted in the seat to face Haru.

His attention slid down to the other drink, a brow raised. "Aren't you a little young?" He grinned, almost mockingly. "Not that I mind that, but..." His eyes raked over the individual, smile turning cold. "You sure you can handle it, kitten?" He drawled, very obviouly trying to egg the younger male on. He wouldn't try to challenge him, that wouldn't be fair, but he would definitely use it as an opportunity to tease the poor guy. His eyes briefly scanned over Haru, sighing as he did so. What a beauty. "You know... If you weren't so uptight, then-" He clicked his tongue, as if he hadn't even thought about the second part at all. "Ah, and If you weren't the head of a rival syndicate..." He trailed off, expression wistful, but only for a moment as it returned to normal. If he finished that sentence, his throat would sure be slit, rather he was in the snake den or not.

In the dim light, his eyes were dark, deep pools of black with no reflection or shine. Eyes that looked like, if you stared too long, you would drown in them. He tugged off the leather jacket, wrapped it around the back of the barstool, and leaned forward so that he could prop his elbows up on the counter. The light outline of his shoulderblades stuck out under the thin shirt. He drew in a breath, letting out a breathy laugh. "Who dragged you here? Sure as hell wasn't because you wanted to give birthday wishes," He set the drink on the table, the sound of clinking glass was lost in all of the bustle. "So, did you want something?" His eyes seemed to watch every little move that Haru made, an interest, but an interest similar to that of a predator searching for prey.

✧ —

Amasa cocked a brow, eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and surprise. Better to assist than to let him fall? No one he had ever encountered before had cared in the slightest about his well being. A helping hand was directly tied to whether or not it would benefit them. He slowly walked along the railing, keeping his attention focus towards the middle where Antoine was. His hands searched along the railing, bumping against a support pillar. His hand traveled up, exploring the height of the building so that he could better visualize what he was dealing with. As his head tilted slightly up, his lips parted slightly in a soft sigh. It seemed to turn in a circular shape, so it must have been some sort of gazebo. So far, he had noted the pond and this building which appeared to be centered in the middle of the garden.

His brows furrowed, concerned since his question had been left unanswered for quite some time. He looked back to the direction of Antoine, a bit worried as to what was happening. Knowing who the noble was, it was impossible for him to be someone in alliance with his father, seeing as that would cause trouble if anything did happen. The silence was deafening as he waited, confused. It seemed to last an eternity, but in reality, it was probably only mere seconds. His hand fell from the pillar, dropping to his side while his other hand still clutched the cloak, concealing the crest. His wary expression melted away as the other spoke, still unused to the charismatic voice. He couldn't quite tell if his face was burning or freezing anymore, not that it mattered. He quickly looked away, gaze dusting the ground.

The silence resumed for a moment, but it was a lot more comfortable this time now that he knew nothing was wrong. He had gotten so used to simply listening to the laughter from the hall that he nearly jumped when Antoine spoke once more. Amasa listened, a grin flashing across his face for only a split second before it fell back into his usual reserved, polite smile. "Oh?" He questioned. "If that offer is genuine, then please do deal with... well, everyone?" He chuckled, only realizing how rude and unrefined he sounded afterwards. If the other male never figured out his identity, though, it wouldn't really be an issue. Not to mention he had no interest in maintaining a good image at this point.

"The reason for my departure..." He sighed, hesitating as if he were actually putting some thought into his response. "Well, if I were forced to choose a single reason, it would probably be that troublesome fly that insisted upon sticking to me," He smiled warmly, although his eyes didn't reflect such an emotion. Of course, he was referring to the guard that was assigned to him. While momentarily getting caught up in the current chain of events, he had completely forgotten why he was out here in the first place. He was originally planning on cooling his head for a while before inevitably returning, but he had found something much more interesting than the battlegrounds of the ball room.

He leaned back against the railing again, folding his arms across, trying to stop the slight tremble of his hands. "Sir Antoine," He started, eyes fluttering shut. "May I ask the same question to you? Surely the host has something better to do than converse with me," He rolled his neck idly, a few pops accompanying the motion. Much to his dismay, he heard the door to his left open, and the faint clicking of heels approaching. It took him all too long to recognize what the sounds actually were, since the rush of the waterfall masked most of the sound. He quickly straightened himself, hastily pushing off of the railing.

"Your highness?" A voice called.

His head snapped to the origin of the voice, and then back to Antoine, a pleading look in his eyes. Judging from the distance, and the questioning tone, they hadn't been spotted yet. The window of opportunity wouldn't last for more than a few seconds, seeing as they were out in the open. He loosened his grip on the cloak, letting it brush past his shoulder and revealing the glimmering crest beneath. It was too late to try and conceal it now, the 'your highness' comment sort of gave it away.

"Your highness?" The guard barked out. "Prince Amasa!" The prince flinched.

Now the guard definitely had to be aware of his location, judging by the irritation of a man that had been searching for a while. The footsteps became heavier and louder, coming closer by the second. Amasa's expression shifted, an exhilarated gleam in his eyes and a loose, mischievous grin on his lips. He took a step forward, extending his hand towards Antoine. "Run?" Was the only thing he said. A simple, one word question. If the other didn't agree, he wouldn't make it very far, especially not against the trained guard. Even if he were to make it past the dreaded koi pond, it would be more likely for him to earn the affection of his father than it would be to get away from one of the king's men. If the noble decided to reject his request to flee, then he would be forced to return to the annoying task of dealing with the fly.

"Prince!" The exasperated man snapped. The blue-eyed guard's gaze flicked toward Amasa's hand, a sense of dread filling up in his stomach. "Don't you dare!" A shout erupted in his throat, picking up the pace so that he would make it to the pair in time.

✧ —

Thats alright, nbd and sure c: ||

Rory blinked, painfully slow, and scanned over the table filled with empty beer cans. They had long since retired to the booth, and he had somehow managed to convince Haru to join him (probably due to the fact that the man was absolutely plastered.) He leaned back, shaking his head as he drank a bit more. By now if was more than just a buzz. It had taken a while, but it was his birthday, so others kept stopping by the booth and offering a drink or a row of shots. He was grateful, but his constitution wouldn't allow him to turn any drink down. His head rolled to the side, and he suddenly sat up, hands shooting out to grab at Haru's collar. He completely missed the first try, but soon found a grip to pull towards himself. "I'm tellin' you," He mumbled, softening his words, not quite slurring yet. "I'm... I'm.. Like I've been sayin'..." His brows furrowed, a troubled expression. What were they talking about just moments before?

It didn't matter. He released his grip on Haru and snatched up another drink, shoving some of the empty cans to the side to make space for the new ones. Even the visible trash wasn't all of it, some had been cleaned up earlier on, but neither Rory nor Haru bothered to do that now. He slammed the drink down after chugging the rest of it and laid back in the booth, an arm draped over his eyes and a leg dangling off. He was dangerously close to having his head in the other male's lap, but it wasn't as if he did it on purpose. Or did he? He couldn't remember. Even in a drunk stupor he was devilishly impish. He hadn't even gotten to the worst of it, when he totally lost his reasoning.

Let's just say, that if anyone pissed him off in the slightest, there would be blood. And if anyone was to his liking in the slightest, there would be cuddles.

He stared up at Haru, eyes faintly glazed over, but his grin still the same. He reached up, somehow managing to find the other's hand as he pulled it to his lips in a soft kiss. After he was satisfied with that, he had the aching urge to bite it, but... He had some shred of awareness left. He intertwined their fingers and left it at that, deciding he didn't want to die today. Although, with what he had already done, he probably deserve to die in a normal situation. "Spider Lily~~" He called in a singsong voice. "I'll take that happy birthday now, Lily," He drawled, running his thumb across Haru's knuckles. "Babyyy.... Lily.... Little flower... Kitten. Sweetheart," He murmured again, voice falling deeper with every pet name.

✧ —

Rory's reacted quickly and precisely, easily catching the can before it was even knocked down in the first place... Or at least, that's what he thought had happened. In reality, his reaction time was incredibly slow, the can hit the ground before he even thought to go for it. Whatever. He would just blame it on the black magic that had teleported it out of his grasp. He couldn't help but burst out into laughter when he saw the leader's face, even if it was a little sadistic to not feel sympathetic. Deciding that he should make up for such a rude reaction, he started to get up. After a split second of halfheartedly attempting to get up, he was defeated, falling back down. He had shifted his position a bit, so he ended up clipping Haru's leg on the way down, but it wasn't as if he gave a shit or felt the need to apologize.

He groaned, feeling the familiar ache of his abdomen from the wound. Clicking his tongue, he pulled up his shirt to examine it. The pain wasn't his problem, he just didn't feel like ripping it open again and having to stitch it back up. That was highly troublesome. There was no blood seeping through the bandages, so it was most likely fine. Aah, whatever. More importantly, was it okay for this guy to be drinking so much? He had gotten tipsy just off the first drink, now he was... Rory frowned, free hand stretching out to try and push away the unopened cans on the table. "Alright, alright, you're.. You're cut off, ya drunkard," He stated plainly, a slight slur starting to appear. He completely forgot about the situation he was dealing with when he actually received a 'happy birthday.' "No way... No fucking way," He whispered, unable to even think straight. He let out a quick, still in disbelief, laugh.

He reached up, hand wrapping around the back of Haru's neck as he yanked him down. Farther and farther until they were just a few inches apart. "Now, where's my birthday kiss?" He smirked, squeezing the other's hand. He paused, hesitating as his expression shifted in to a 'what-am-I-forgetting' look. It was reminiscent of a computer having a system error, a sort of hiccup in the coding. "Ah! Sorry.." He started. If he had been even the least bit sober, that would have been the end of the interaction, but it was too late for that now. "I meant, where's my birthday kiss, kitten?"

The scene was just getting worse and worse. The table was pretty much completely trashed, and the people sitting at it even moreso. The choking scent of beer filled the booth due to the large puddle. Rory's shirt was still halfway up, since he hadn't really bothered to fix it, and the two leaders of rival clans were seconds apart from kissing. The pulse of the party was fainter now, not because they had actually gotten quieter, but because Rory wasn't even paying attention to anything but his drinking buddy at the moment. Not to mention that even the snake with a tolerance as high as Mt Everest was intoxicated. With all he had drank, the hangover would be absolute hell. If he wasn't snake-like enough, whenever he had a hangover, he just wanted to curl up and sleep in the sun.

✧ —

They're a mess smh ||

Rory raised a brow, admiring the calculating features of the other male up close for a moment. Haru seemed to be thinking, weighing the options. Was he really considering it? Rory's gaze was no longer so sharp or hard to read, they had softened, but there was some sort of impatience that resembled hunger. He would've sat there in that comfortable silence for the rest of the night, since he had no real concept of the passage of time anymore, but he was suddenly torn from his daze as a set of soft lips crashed into his.

Rory was completely convinced that Haru was poisonous, why else would he feel this way? He felt light, but sort of sluggish at the same time, like it was hard to keep his eyes open. The buzz had increased, spreading out through his whole body in a way that made him feel invincible and fluffy. Not to mention, he couldn't even feel the pain from his abdomen. Not that the buzz had cured it or made it stop, he just didn't care that it hurt. Or perhaps that was due to the fact that he had ingested three times his weight in alcohol, but really, it could be either. He wanted more of that feeling. The hand that had been previously been resting on the nape of Haru's neck slipped down to grab his face and pull him even closer. The thought of the awkward position never even occurred to Rory, as far as he was concerned, the only thing that mattered was kissing Haru even more.

As soon as he broke away, he was smirking and a little bit breathless. Their first kiss was out of obligation and tasted like lager. First kiss? Well, first birthday kiss. He started to clutch his chest in a melodramatic display as a response to the name, but he realized both of his hands were busy. After much troubleshooting, he came to the conclusion that he could just... Let go. So he did. But then he forgot why he needed to let go in the first place, so they were back to square one. He flinched when Haru's hand accidentally slipped to low for comfort. Then, there was an expression that he had never even had on his face before. Shock. He wasn't sure if the touch or Haru coming back for a second kiss surprised him more, but both caught him off gard, which was something that had never happened before.

He roughly grabbed Haru's wrist and abruptly sat up, nearly knocking his head into the other's as he did. He twisted around to face Haru, still holding his wrist, probably a little too hard since he didn't have much control on his strength. Rory almost sobered up, almost realized what was happening, but as soon as he saw the Ishido Leader's face, he was pulled right back in. He leaned forward, eyes momentarily flicking down to the other's lips before back up. Should he? No, he shouldn't. "Where's my... m' apology kiss for callin' me a dummy on my birthday?" He demanded, slurring. He had already fallen too deep. He jerked Haru's wrist towards himself, pulling them into another deep kiss. This was too dangerous.

✧ —

Raeliana watched the other intently, waiting for her to make a move. The air was a bit chilled, just enough to be annoying. However, the cold got worse once the main source of heat [Lucy] moved away from her. Her blank expression fell into a frown as everything suddenly became miserably cold. She had never dealt with the outdoors, other than the occasional stroll and her visits to the town. She blinked, sighing nostalgically as the thought about her visits to the town. She had always used to sneak out to escape to the night market, or to see the fireworks and festivities of a celebration. She had only been able to do it a couple of times before her nanny scolded her into oblivion and she was too afraid to try again. She thought about the warm scents of baked bread, the dimly lit street filled with laughter from all ages. Suddenly, she was pulled back to reality once more, shaking her head a bit as she blinked the bleariness from her eyes. Perhaps she was still half-asleep.

She had only now noticed that Lucy had returned to her side with food in hand. With arms above her head, she stretched her body, a couple of soft popping noises accompanying the motion. After a short yawn she was fully awake and ready to... Well, ready to do whatever they were going to. Then, she slowly moved out from under the furs, trying to savor that warmth before she regretfully lost it. She fiddled with her boots, hastily pulling them on and lacing them up. She stretched again, this time her arms, a sigh escaping from her lips. It had been ages since she had slept in so late, if she ever had at all. She took the breakfast gratefully, but couldn't help but be a bit skeptical, although she would dare to voice that. She had been conditioned to a certain type of food, and that had never included berries and a biscuit. But, much to her surprise, she was proven wrong. It was actually pretty tasty.

She nodded at the comment of darkness, sending a regretful glance towards the light streaming through the building. If only she had woken up earlier, they could just... Get on with this. If she didn't keep moving, then... If she didn't keep her mind off of things, then... She felt as though if she couldn't busy herself, everything would finally settle in and become permanent. She couldn't deny everything as if it were a dream, but she sure as hell wanted to.

She blinked. "What happened?" She repeated curiously, voice cracking just a bit as she felt her throat seized up. For a moment, her blank expression fell into something much deeper, much... more pained. Such a look quickly changed, a forced smile on her lips now. But those watery, sorrowful eyes remained unwavering. She didn't appear as if she might cry, but resembled more of a bittersweet acceptance. Since she had been in such exciting situations so far, she hadn't really allowed herself to think of what had happened for too long. It felt as though she had cried in front of this stranger a million times. She looked up, movements slow and cautious.

There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for longer than it actually did, and then her face abruptly switched, a look of utter shock on her features. "My brothers! They weren't at the banquet," She stood, voice a little louder than it should've been. She laughed breathlessly, slapping a hand to her mouth with wide eyes. As sudden as the expression appeared, it fell right back. She dropped back down, slumping with her ebows propped up on her knees. "And I left them," She whispered, shaking her head. A frustrated growl erupted in her throat and she laid back, hands covering her face. "Lucy," She called, slightly muffled behind the palms of her hands. She seemed to be switching emotions so fast that even she couldn't keep up anymore. "What the hell are we doing?" She asked, rather roughly, since she had never really been accustomed to cursing.

She sat up again, leaning slightly against Lucy. "I haven't the slightest notion of what's happening at the palace other than what I saw, and..." A hand moved to her throat, a tingling sensation running through her as she thought about her mother's death. "...What I saw was carnage. Some of them were even in alliance to this uproar. Marianne, oh gods Marianne. I wonder what had become of her? My brothers werent even there, and yet.. Whatever happened to them can't be any better. Uncle must have tied up all the loose ends, but to what extent?" She thought aloud, sighing intermittently. She still wasn't quite sure what had actually happened that day, it had become such a hazy mess that she couldn't sift through all of her memories. Why couldn't there have been a bloodless uprising? Did her uncle fear a revolt if he left the king and queen alive?

✧ —

Rory felt an animalistic growl rumble in his throat as he heard the noise Haru made. If he wasn't completely lost before, now he certainly was. He caught Haru's hips, roughly pulling the other onto his lap. The table made things a bit awkward, but he ignored it for the most part. The only thing it did was force them closer, and Rory wasn't opposed to that at all. His hands started to creep up the leader's shirt, freezing cold fingers brushing against warm skin. He was a rather cold person most of the time, so he was attracted to that burning heat.

A noise of surprise escaped him when Haru pulled away, silghtly unsatisfied. Of course he was going to be impatient, he wanted more. Now. He nearly burst out in laughter as the other missed the mark, as if he hadn't been doing clumsy shit the whole night. It quickly died off as the attention shifted to his neck, a smile on his lips. He leaned forward, a hand on Haru's back so that neither of them lost their balance, and snatched up another can of beer. He pulled it back and took a swig, letting out a refreshed sigh.

"Hey.. hey hey hey..." He mumbled, dangerously close to kissing Haru again, so much so that their lips were almost brushing. "Let's go..." He started, but got too distracted and ended up giving in to the temptation of giving Haru a quick peck. "Let's go to um.. A hotel?" He asked, not even sure what to say anymore. At least, in his intoxicated state, he was a little wary of taking a rival gang leader to his house.

SWEET POISON —

plot

Muse A is a fun-loving college student who is a carefree, thrill-seeker with one tiny secret. They're a vampire. Usually, to remain undetected, the vampire population will purchase blood packets, or supplements, but Muse A manages to slip up. They, while intoxicated, entice a young adult who's also drunk, and asks them to follow Muse A into the alley. Just as Muse A is about to chomp down on the victims jugular vein, they hear a sound coming from the end of the alley. It's Muse B. Muse B is the complete opposite of Muse A, a straight-laced rule follower who just so happens to go down that alleyway at that specific time. You may choose either muse A or B.

optional:

✂ The characters go to the same college, or they're out of college. (I'm partial to being in college so that gives them a reason to see each other)

✂ Muse B was originally Muse A's secret admirer.

✂ If you have any plot ideas, feel free to add them in!

my character

(I'll post this when you pick which muse you would like to be!) I'd prefer GxG or BxB. If you're really fixed on it, I'd be willing to do BxG, but really only if I was playing the female. As for a form, I won't be doing an overly complicated one unless requested, because that feels a little limiting.

rules

✂ PLEASE! Don't kiss and diss. If you happen to lose interest, at least tell me, I won't be mad or anything!

✂ Try to write 2+ paragraphs, I understand low muse, though. Please nothing below about 7 sentences though, I need something go off of.

✂ I don't have a preference as to faceclaims or drawings, as long as it fits your character and your style I'm good with it! I'm good with descriptions, too, although I like having a picture to base it off of.

✂ If things get too saucy, we can fade/pm, your choice.

extra

I usually write 2+ paragraphs, but I tend to match the amount my partner writes. Word count ranges from about 400 to 1000 depending on muse. I just prefer more advanced rp. I do dislike when role-plays get down to like one liners every post, it's boring and mundane. I'm really looking for a moderate to advanced rp partner.

warning

This WILL contain stuff that might be triggering, such as minor gore, drinking, cussing etc.

✧ —

Rory almost grabbed Haru to pull him back in, but he was too busy worrying about if the other would fall flat on his face. He seemed so wobbly was he climbed off, so much so that Rory could've pushed him over with a pinky. He stood, rather unsteady himself, and shuffled forward, nearly knocking the table in the process. Once he was finally out, he leaned against the wall, blinking a bit as the world started to spin. Everything seemed to shift out of focus, but only for a moment before he recovered.

He was about to snatch up Haru's hand, but grabbed at nothing since the other leader had already attached himself on Rory's arm. He grinned to the other, roughly grabbing his jaw and pulling it into another quick, surface level kiss. "Well," He started, but dropped into a low whisper. "Kiss me more," He laughed, a little loopy. As he tried to orient himself, he looked around, drawing back the curtain. He was met with the noisy sound of the bar and the blasting music. He frowned, quickly dragging himself and Haru out the back door so that they could get out without any navigation.

The back door led them out into the alley, humidity hanging in the air and the sounds of the street echoing down the small alley. He started to make his way to the end of the dimly lit walkway, but froze right before he got out into the street, turning around like he forgot something. He grabbed Haru and backed him up against the wall, placing his knee between the other's legs. "Kiss," He demanded, a childish tone of voice. Tilting Haru's chin up, he pressed another sweet kiss to his lips before it got deeper, more passionate. He broke away, licking his lips, the usual loose grin on his face. "That should hold m' over..." He murmured, savoring the moment he got to stare into Haru's eyes for a bit.

But, all good things must come to an end... So that more good things could happen. That was the saying, right? He then continued to drag Haru down the sidewalk, intermittently tripping or stumbling and even crashing in to things occasionally. Once they booked the hotel room, it was even more chaotic after that. They stumbled into the elevator, and almost immediately, Rory's hands had already slipped under Haru's shirt, holding his hips as he leaned down and left a couple of light purple bruises down his neck. Feeling dizzy once again, he leaned against Haru, buying his face in the other leader's neck as he took a break to gather himself again.

✧ —

We can fade/pm whenever you'd like c: ||

Rory nodded furiously, snatching up Haru's hand. He started to walk out just as the elevator doors began to close, so instinctively, although he wasn't in any danger, he smacked a hand against the door and pushed it back. He gnawed on his lip as they rushed down the hall, eyes briefly scanning the room numbers. He skidded to a stop in front of the door, practically crashing into it as he fumbled with the key-card. Once he heard the tell tale beep, he kicked the door in, pulling Haru with him.

The room smelled faintly of soap and clean linens, almost completely dark except for the light streaming in from the hallway. He made his way to the desk, pushing whatever was on it to the side, some stuff spilling over on to the floor, but it wasn't like he cared or even noticed. Quickly, He grabbed Haru by the hips and lifted him up onto the desk, returning to his work on the deepening the hue of the hickeys. He only momentarily paused so that he could pull his own shirt off. He looped a finger in the neckline of Haru's shirt, tugging it down so that he could nip at the other's collar bone.

He looked up to Haru, a warm grin on his features. "Hey," He murmured, voice soft and soothing to come degree. He drew in a deep breath like he was about to blow out someones eardrum with a scream. "...Cutie?" He whispered, with another quick peck. Then again. "Haru..." He whined, smiling. There was something awkward about saying that name, but he couldn't quite figure out why. Well, whatever. He leaned forward, pressing another passionate kiss to the other leader, slightly biting Haru's lower lip as he pulled away. Ah! The reason why saying that name was weird. That was the first time he had actually even bothered to use his real name instead of 'honey' or 'babe' or even 'kitten.'

He liked that name better regardless. "Haru," He repeated, just to say it. It sort of rolled off the tongue, or maybe that was because he was most certainly slurring it? He still gazed up, eyes half closed as he admired the other. His hands shifted from Haru's hips to his thighs, tracing patterns. Was he seeing stars or was Haru really just that dazzling?

✧ —

Dorian sniffled, cramming his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat, letting out a breath into the crisp night air. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, shuddering against the cold for a moment before returning his focus on navigating. He had just moved into the area, some lower part of the city, into a shitty little one studio apartment. Even what he had now was way too expensive for him, but the only other option was the crack den down the street, so he decided to not go with the latter. He loosely nodded to a passerby, someone who's face he didn't even spare a glance to. Everything was aching from working all day, on a weekend no less, so he just wanted to get home and relax.

It would still take about fifteen minutes to go around the block and back into his apartment, and he couldn't even imagine taking another step. He suddenly halted, dropping down onto a bench for a short break while he tried to muster up whatever energy he had left. He leaned forward on his knees, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He cast a look over his shoulder, into a dark, musty alleyway and bit his lip, internally debating whether he should take the shortcut or not. He was tired, and he did want to get home, but he knew nothing about this area. The only shred of information he had was that not being out in the open (like the road) was most certainly a bad idea. But how bad could it be? He would only cut through there this one time, and then never even think about it again.

He stood, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he crept into the alley, each step was cautious, as if he were testing if the ground would fall through before putting his full weight on it. Basically, he was tiptoeing through an alley in a trenchcoat and a turtleneck... Which made him look so suspicious that it was painful. He finally loosened up when he was about halfway through, whistling a bit. From here, he could see his street, and soon, the apartment building would come into view. As he took one step out of the shadows, and on to the well lit street, he was suddenly jerked backwards. For a moment, he blanked out. Why did he suddenly lose his balance? Then, he realized that there was a hand firmly gripping his shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak, yell, interrogate, but he was swiftly muffled by a cloth. The quiet shushing of his attacker was the last thing he heard while darkness spread out through his vision.

He groaned, shifting uncomfortably as he began to regain consciousness. His eyes dared to flutter open, but he squinted, lids too heavy to completely open. If everything before had hurt, then this was a whole new level of aching, something more intense. Not necessarily pain, just sluggishness and the inability to even move an inch. "What..." He blinked, brows furrowing. "What the hell?" He muttered, voice hoarse. He tried to lift his hand to rub the bleariness from his eyes, but they wouldn't budge. Huh? They wouldn't budge? He tried again, a little more forceful this time. By now, his eyes were wide awake as he struggled to move his hands. There was an unusually tight grip around his wrists, which he soon identified as some sort of binding. "What the fuck?" He hissed, eyes snapping up to observe his surroundings.

✧ —

Dorian hadn't quite been aware of his situation before, but now it had become perfectly clear. He had been kidnapped. Who the hell would ever want to do that? While he was lost in thoughts, he heard a door click open, the sound resonating throughout the room. It seemed so unbearably loud in the silence, which may have partially been due to the fact that his ears were even more sensitive than normal, sort of like a hangover of sorts. He shifted to get a better look at the person who had entered, but could suppress a noise of surprise, almost a choking gasp as he finally realized what was around him. People? Other people? If he didn't know any better, he would've called for help, but that was never how these situations went. His eyes slowly slid to the approaching figure, a sort of fiery look in his eyes, although it was laced with fear. Every instinct and bone in his body was screaming at him to run, but he couldn't. He could only helplessly sit there as that person drew more near.

Finally, when the stranger was close enough, he could see without being obstructed by anything. Out of pure reflex, his face screwed up in a mix of confusion and terror. What the hell was someone so attractive doing here? Last time he had checked, being a model paid way more than being a psychotic serial killer did. He mentally slapped himself out of his thoughts, disgusted at the fact that he could even think about such a thing in this situation. He flinched at the sight of the needle, drawing back as much as he could, now trying even harder to free himself from the grips. "Woah woah woah woah..." He managed to call out, shaking his head. "At least... At least get to know me before you stick that in me," He gasped. He physically winced at his own comment, brows furrowing as he tried to figure out how he even had the willpower to joke at a time like this.

For a moment, his panicked struggles ceased, but only for as long as the other spoke. His voice... Was so calming, so convincing and soft that it almost lulled him back to sleep instantly. It was so hypnotic that he actually considered stopping and falling back into that warm sleep, but the cold hand on his skin jolted him back to reality. "Hey," He started, body beginning to tremble. "HEY!" He snapped, trying to kick out at the stranger, but failing due to the restraints. Even if his legs weren't tied, he probably wouldn't be able to reach the attacker regardless. His words seemed to have no effect, not even the slightest bit of hesitation. It made him wonder if he was even being heard, perhaps this was just a cruel dream. By now, cold tears had begun to prick at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, not now. Even if he were to die here, no one would even notice. He had no family and the only friends he had were more like acquaintances, so they might as well be strangers. Well, if he was going to die, he never expected to go peacefully, just not this early. "... no," He mumbled weakly, beginning to lose any hope of escaping that needle.

"What's your name?" He asked suddenly, not truly wanting to know the answer. There was no response. Or perhaps the other was just about to say it, but the silence felt as though it were an eternity, and Dorian was impatient. "I said, what's. Your. Name?" He repeated, louder this time, as if that were going to raise the chances of him getting an answer. It didn't. "What's your GOD DAMN name, so that I can't haunt the SHIT out of you, bastard?!" He jerked on the restraints once more, panting. Well that was... Not a good idea. He had always watched horror movies and tv shows and thought, 'What are they doing? You have to be nice and manipulate them for it to work.' But now, lying here, his survival instinct and fear wouldn't allow him to think straight. It was totally different when you were actually going through it. He let out a heavy sigh and let his body go slack, shutting his eyes tightly, but he couldn't steady the ever-present tremble in his hands.

✧ —

Dorian's brows narrowed, not quite sure if he was confused or suspicious as the other paused. Must to his dismay, he flinched, hard, as the syringe hit the floor, shattering. It took everything out of him to stifle a yelp that threatened to escape his lips. "Are you alright?" He asked reflexively, although it was only a conditioned response. He mentally slapped himself again for being such a dumbass. Who in their right mind would ask something like that? When the stranger turned back around to look at him, he shrunk back, shutting his eyes tightly so that he could brace for the inevitable impact. There was a pause, and once he didn't feel the familiar collision with his temple he opened an eye. He nearly jumped out of his skin now that the other male was hovering over him, an even scarier position than before. His eyes flicked to the cabinet and then back, clenching his teeth so hard that his jaw began to ache.

___

Dorian, who was about 3 years younger, held his arms up to block the fury of attacks. He stumbled back, falling down and slumping against the wall, letting out a grunt. He coughed, blood dripping down from his head, dangerously close to his eye. His lip was busted, he was sure quite how bad, but he knew that it wasn't good. Pain spread out through his body, shooting through his ribs, up in to his head. By now, his forearms were bruised and aching from trying to block the hits. He peeked out from behind his arms, calmly observing the high-school kid that had now resorted to kicking. At this point, crying for help or begging for it to stop wouldn't have any effect. It wasn't as if this wasn't a common occurrence. "Say something!" The kid screamed, suddenly grabbing Dorian's arm and pulling it back to reveal his face. Dorian, with a blank expression, wouldn't meet the bullied gaze. That somehow pissed them off more.

"Move!" The kid screamed again, lifting his hand and pulling it back. Dorian let out a breath, slightly disinterest at what would happen next. The thing that alerted him though, was the object in the hand of the bully, something he hadn't noticed before. He started to lift his arms again, but he wasn't swift enough in his motion. It was too late. The rock collided with his head, scraping at his temple, and a strangled shout rumbled in his throat. Luckily, it had only really been a surface wound, and left a gash on his temple, a light scar forming after that.

___

"Blaise," He repeated softly, nodding a bit. He was unable to meet the other in the eyes, so he opted to turning his head away instead. A terrible, awful sense of dread flooded his senses as the man known as Blaise continued speaking. "Doing what?" He asked, growing a bit desperate. His hand stretched out, fingers reaching to try and grab at something, anything. "Just.." He swallowed thickly, shuddering. "Just tell me what's going on?" He asked, even if he knew he wouldn't receive an answer. He flexed his hands, wrists beginning to bruise because of his struggle.