Fantasy Bloodlines of the Night (Closed w spruce)

[spruce]

Time, which had been halted as Eternal Nightfall filled the room with song, came back in pieces as the final chord rung out into the air and lay suspended, omnipresent even as the crowd began to shriek its pleasure. Dozens of voices filled the air with screams of approval, shouts of praise, and even desperate pleas of lust. Damian, still hypnotized by the poignant lyrics of the song and the beings onstage, watched as roses, fan-made masks, and even undergarments were tossed onto the stage like ancient offerings to gods. And gods the band members were as they stood on their pedestal above the others, instruments clutched in their hands-- embraced lovers.

Damian drew in a soft breath through parted lips and lifted his chin slightly; it was instinctual, despite the fact that he did not need to breathe. The lyrics had moved him more than he had expected them to, but every performance left him feeling that way. The beauty of life, the agony of loss; loneliness in the cold embrace of death and her careful, tender hands. A mere song ignited the same feelings as a painting or a poem could. Art, crafted to ignite emotion, though, in this case... Damian watched as a pink pair of lace underpants flew through the air and landed in an undignified wad at the foot of the stage. Some of the emotions that this performance incited were not so profound and were much more... animalistic in nature. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. As the crowd around him roared and the final chord ebbed into its sound, Damian angled his head to the side and stared at each member of the band in turn. He brought his hands up and clapped as a fan somewhere to his left put his fingers to his lips and whistled.

Nightshade had turned to meet his gaze. The corner of Damian's smirk curled ever-so-slightly more upwards. It wasn't vanity that led him to believe that the eyes beneath that mask were looking at him; he felt the heaviness of that gaze. He met the stare unblinkingly, the amber of his eyes a wildfire left to blaze. He watched as the guitarist brought the gleaming cobalt of his guitar pick to his mouth and licked it, the pink flash of his tongue as it glided up the plastic so distracting that Damian hardly bothered to look for fangs. Nightshade drew his arm back and sent the little piece skywards in a truly impressive throw, worthy of any Yankees pitcher. The pick flew over the heads of the crowd-- and some of their grappling hands that reached for it in vain-- and came directly towards him. Damian didn't miss a beat; he caught the pick between index and middle finger and held it up, a gleaming, shining blue for Nightshade to see. Never once did his eyes waver despite the fact that the sheer audacity, the blatantness of the action, made his knees feel somewhat weak.

Or perhaps that was the hunger. The smell of sweat and alcohol-filled blood had begun to make him feel slightly woozy. Damian was not about to retreat just yet, though. He lifted his two fingers to his forehead, the pick still clasped between them, and lifted them in a mock salute, savage smirk still curling his closed lips upwards. He delicately kissed the plastic edge, lifting the blue teardrop higher as though blowing a kiss before he pocketed the pick with a wink-- there was no way he was going to give up that souvenir-- and turned away. The band that would perform next was of no concern to him; it apparently was not of any concern to many members of the crowd, too, who slowly began to disperse when it was clear that an encore wasn't meant to be.

Damian turned the pick over a few times in his pocket as he weaved his way through the masses. An artificial, computerized beat began to fill the air as the stage was readied for the next band's show. Smugness warmed him even as he stepped outside into the cool night air. He'd captured the guitarist's interest-- somehow. He hadn't even needed to throw anything to do so. Damian paused outside the building's entrance; a distant siren wailed plaintively from a few blocks over. For a blissful few hours he'd been able to succumb-- perhaps not to a higher power, but to something much better than-- and now, the elation was slowly beginning to ebb. He pressed his back to cool, dark brick as he tried to scour the evening for potential victims. In a city of vagrants-- especially in this part of the city where the inhabitants were known to be a bit rougher-- it wouldn't be hard to track down the sort that he usually hunted, but his mind was still foggy with the earlier interaction... and its implications.

horror.

damian.

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

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♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Phantomelda]

scroll

Bloodletter Heir

Aristeo Hudson

mood

Tired af

outfit

Outfit

location

Bloodletter HQ

interactions

About to be married off to a vampire prince

tags

#vampirehunter #fangoff

Aris' breath caught deep in his throat as he watched Damian catch the pick, between two of his fingers. Ever the showman himself, Damian not only saluted with it, but blew Aris a kiss with it. The vampire hunter hated it, as he watched his vampire betrothed do those little things. It did something to his nervous system that made him feel like he was either going to throw up or have an aneurism. And, it made him smugger than the devil himself. He couldn't help the close lipped smirk that contorted his lips, even as his band mates gathered all of the flowers and unmentionables that were thrown onto the stage, and ushered him off, the next band already on the edge needing to get set up.

Aris took a deep breath as he stepped off the stage and into the dimly lit backstage area. The adrenaline of the performance still pulsed through his veins, his fingers tingling from the exhilarating rush of playing to a crowd of cheering fans. He ran a hand through his kinky black hair, the sweat clinging to his skin as he leaned against a wall, relishing a moment of quiet solitude before the chaos of meeting fans and taking pictures began.

The sounds of the crowd filtered through the walls, a muffled cacophony of cheers and applause that served as a reminder of the electric energy that filled the club. Aris closed his eyes, letting the music still echo in his mind, the vibrations of the guitar strings reverberating through his very being. Despite the exhaustion that weighed on his muscles and the ache in his fingers, he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and satisfaction at the successful performance they had just delivered.

As he caught his breath, Aris couldn't shake the feeling of euphoria that came with being on stage. He knew that music was his passion, his calling, and being able to share that with others was a privilege he'd never take for granted.

But soon enough, the clamor of voices and the sound of footsteps approached, signaling that it was time to emerge from his moment of respite and face the throng of eager fans waiting to meet him. With a final deep breath, Aris straightened his sleeves, adjusted the strap of his guitar, and steeled himself for the onslaught of attention that awaited him. As he stepped back into the vibrant chaos of the club, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, even as he was bombarded for the next half hour with chatting, photos, a lot of flirting, and more photos.

Eventually, Emil called it and ushered the guys to get their stuff and get out. Basically tumbling out the back door, and into the alleyway, alongside of the building, all of them in their full outfits still, and laughing and chatting about how amazing the performance had just been. However, the moment Aris stepped after them, relishing the cool breeze that washed over his damp skin, he felt him.

Turning, his mask obscured face turning ever so slowly, horns glinting underneath the streetlights, he looked at Damian who was leaning against the wall. He didn't even get to react before Malik wrapped an arm over his shoulders and pointed at Damian flat out, his red hair curling and thick with sweat,

"Hey! Isn't that the guy who you threw your pick to?? You two should totally take a commemorative photo together!"

Stiffening, Aris started to inhale a breath of protest but.... nothing came out. His curiosity burned. Looking straight at Damien, he motioned down at his entire self, as if in question if Damian wanted to. And wholly leaving it up to the prince on what he wanted to do.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[spruce]

For all the fog that clouded Damian's head, securing a hunt hadn't been hard. Though, it had been harder to drag the drained body of the night's victim into the basement of the Crypt to be burned and disposed of what with Eternal Nightfall's dispersing crowd mulling about. Luckily for Damian, though, most of the mortals were too drunk, too oblivious, too impervious to notice anything out of sorts, and the vampires whom Damian had glimpsed turned away with a blind eye. When Damian emerged out of the back door of the nightclub into the inky cool of the city's smoggy evening air, he felt considerably warmer, and considerably more clear-headed, than he had before.

Damian tucked his back up carefully against the brick and tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He leaned the back of his head against the cold, flat surface, and stared up, upwards, at the nonexistent stars. Above, far, far above the persistent glimmer of the streetlights, a plane banked sharply overhead. Damian cocked his head, slightly, and stared at the red and green flickering of the lights on the plane's wings. He'd never flown once. Actually, though he'd never admit to such a thing, Damian had seldom been out of the city save for occasional school trips upstate to nature preserves, or to New Jersey with his mother, where groceries were cheaper. Damian dropped his gaze from the plane; the door leading out of the Crypt had opened with its usual groaning creak, and the glimmer of artificial horns caught his eye out of his peripherals.

He flicked his gaze over at the wearers, surely it was another pack of Eternal Nightfall groupies - but these were no adoring fans; no, this was the band in the flesh, down to the intricate masks on their faces. Damian made more of a point to show that he was looking their way, but kept his posture cool, nonchalant. He turned his face towards Foxglove, whose finger was aimed at him in a blatant point. In spite of himself, Damian scoffed slightly. Nightshade was only partially turned his way in a display that was far shyer than his initial interaction with Damian had been. In response to the other's behavior, Damian raised his brows ever-so-slightly.

'We absolutely have to stop meeting like this, dear,' he projected into the other vampire's mind with a soft blanket of sarcasm, lazily, teasingly. 'People will start to talk.' He pressed the side of his head into the chilled brick, arms now folded across his waist, as Nightshade made a flourishing hand gesture that encompassed the majority of his own body. Damian blinked, the amber of his eyes flashing cat-like in the dim glow of the neighboring streetlight before he slowly pushed off and away from the wall. He sauntered over towards the guitarist and those elegantly curled horns. "Unless, of course," he finished, audibly, "You want to give them something to talk about. And if you aren't yet sick and tired of the paparazzi." The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he dug his phone out from his pocket. This was all just a bit of fun. Surely Lucius would have no qualm against an innocent little flirt. Damian opened the phone, turned the camera on, and leaned in closer before he snapped a photo: his smirking face besides the demonic mask that Nightshade donned as his choice of armor.

For a mere moment, as he pulled a casual arm around the other for their photo, he could have sworn that he smelled blood. Though, there were so many mortals around. It was impossible to tell where that smell was coming from. "Perhaps you would be able to take one of us?" Damian inquired Foxglove, before he passed the phone over to him. He spared a wink in Nightshade's direction. "Moreso so your dear guitarist can remember this moment than for the sake of myself, of course."

horror.

damian.

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡